Untitled Story

            I'm cold. I'm pretty cold. Could be it's cold outside today, not really sure, but I am very cold. It could be winter, maybe, possibly? I don't know. Could be April, May, February, August or January. Lost track of time, the hours, days. Seems like people are dressed for the Summer, as they head to their destinations. Homes. Jobs. Families. Bars. Kid's Soccer Games. Used to be me. Used to be my old life. This dirty wool overcoat, the worn out jacket and Donald Duck sweater I wear under my coat aren't keeping me warm. These clothes are all I have. Well I have a few other possessions I managed to keep but not much. There isn't too much of anything for me anymore. Not since. Not since.

            Sometimes, I see people around me with all their fancy things, things they don't even value, and it makes me angry. Can I get angry and blame them for my troubles? Blame the World? Yeah, sometimes I can, but it doesn't help anything, and it's not the truth. Can't put the blame on their shoulders. Can't do it. Sometimes I wonder how I got to this point, where my path veered so drastically. But then I realized, this was a path I took on my own. How many paths could there have been in front of me? Did I have a lot of choices? That's a simple question to answer, yes. Would things be different? Now that is somewhat of harder answer to find. I'm still very cold. Sweating even though I'm cold.

            Now I'm hungry. I could be starving, I don't know and I can't tell. What? Two days? Three days? Maybe a week? Since my last proper meal. Found little things here and there, small scraps of snacks I've picked up. Half eaten meals people threw away. Things to calm hunger, not satisfy it. There's the craving too, a horrible one. It's much worse than the hunger, sometimes it's worse than thirst. Not a good feeling. Not at all. But it's here. I have to deal with it. Makes me itch. Sometimes it's as if my skin is burning. Maybe this why my skin is filled with scabs. Got scratch marks all over too. Those could be from anything though. Nights I've forgotten. Bad. Harsh, it's so very harsh. Still makes me think about the things that happened. How I became part of one World and at the same time so disconnected from another. How this World brought me to my knees and refused to let me get back up. Or maybe and more likely my own devices are keeping me down, keeping me from getting back up. From being able to start again, fresh. Try to move on from this, forget the demons of my past. The high blocks it out, blocks it all out for a little while. The demons that inhabit the memories of my past life. Being high is all I have to soothe my constant pain. Maybe the high can help warm me up today.

            Don't have much money left. Won't be able to get much to calm the craving. Any is enough though, just a hit. Won't be that way forever. One day, I'll need more and more, just to ease all the pain. I'll need to get some more money today or tonight. Going too long without the fix, without the high, dealing with the craving, allowing my mind to focus on memories. Gotta get some more money. There's always a way to get or find money, enough for what I need, even in my despicable predicament. Most things I will forever regret, but I need to do them. It's hard to wake up or be lulled to sleep without the high. Too many memories and demons come in, crowd my mind. Weighing me down. The memories are the worst. Realizing where I came from, where I am now. How far have I fallen. This life I have lived. Wasn't the greatest person, had my problems but had a job. A good job and was successful. People counted on me, the functioning borderline addict. People knew and saw my potential. I was a risk but I was holding it together and my talent could never be denied. My family. The family I had. Wife. A beautiful wife. Loving, caring, thoughtful, a woman who would do anything for her husband. She would do anything for her stupid druggy husband. All the support I needed, in everything I did.

            A daughter. My lovely precious daughter. Precious daughter. Angel of mine. It feels colder. A lot colder. I love my daughter. So much. She's the only good memory I have in this World. The Park. The Pool. Her School Plays. Recitals. Picking her up from School. My heart. I hate that she recognizes me in this terrible conditions. How could she still love me?  How could something so beautiful and precious love me? She still believes her father is a good man, a good "Daddy." She always did. But one day. One day she'll. She'll. One day she will understand. Things I've done to provide for myself, foster my bad habits, but I wouldn't do to help them, help the wife and daughter I love. My wife she recognized this, she left. She loved me, to the end, she may still love me, but she knew I wasn't good. Put up with it longer than she should've. She knew I would be a danger to her and my daughter's well being. She knew. Left me. One day she told me, and just left me at the house by myself. Took our daughter to a better place. To be around people better than me. It had always been a problem, the drugs, but it wasn't always so major. But quick success, sudden failure, and pride will always make things much worse. I fell, fell so hard and my pride wouldn't allow anyone to help me get back up on my feet. Family tried. Friends tried. My loving wife tried so many times. No, I never accepted or listened to it. Not accepting any help, I became lost, swallowed up in the darkness. What was a fair weather habit, slowly became a critical dependency. Only took me a few months to use up everything I had. Trade it. Sell it. Whatever. Just to get my high.

            Thinking about my daughter having to see the transformation makes me sick and hurts my heart. I need my fix. I need it. It should help me with the cold and block out these terrible thoughts and feelings, these demons. Never could I best them, I can only tune them out, and only for short periods of time. The thought of knowing that you've fallen is quite scary. It becomes even scarier when you realize you're content after the fall. In the darkness you're drowning yourself in. Do I know this life, the drugs, the things I've done are killing me? Yes. Has it occurred to me I am hurting the people I love the most, especially my precious angel, my little heart, my beautiful daughter? Of course I do. I know how much damage I've done to one so little, so precious, the damage I could do. Yet, I'm fine living this way. Will I get tired of it one day, possibly, who knows. It could kill me before that, I know this. Right now, I just want to figure out how to warm up. Warm up and drift away, drift away from this World, from those memories, from the demons.