I Lost You, My Friend, To The Fire Of Addiction.
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You were my best friend, I still love you, and your memory is in my blood, but I have so many unanswered questions.
You were tragically amiss, lost in your closed world of an addiction that left multiple scars in and on so many people. The lies, the deception, and the mysterious disappearance had me wondering: what did I do, and why?
Broken promises, delayed responses, and a heart turned to stone over cracked ice (that shit is so hideous and so ugly.) The swirling smoke around your beautiful smile stole your essence, made you ashen and unavailable.
But you managed to convince a few you were just fine to cover your tracks, so you could hide behind the despicable and weak excuses of the deep inhalation.
I loathe what you became right in front of my eyes, your daughter’s innocence, and the ones who once knew a different side of your light.
Do you remember?
You were stunning, enchanting and kind. But the snake-charmer had you from the get-go with the allure of an everlasting high.
I want you to know I am not interested in the reasons anymore. Quite frankly, I couldn’t give a fuck about where you were, I only care about where you are now, and I miss you. I think about often. I miss your genuine smile, that completely evil intoxicating laugh and the way you loved so fiercely.
I miss your carefree attitude, your interest in a world full of butterflies, angels and the mystic, and… I miss the purple haze.
You were the catalyst for a party or an excuse for a cocktail. When you walked into a room, the energy was electric, and no one but me saw your pain. I know you tried to prevent the wounds from bleeding and from being a huge mess, yet there wasn’t a Band-Aid big enough to stop the hemorrhaging… so you shut the door to bleed alone.
You were everybody’s girl, including my husband’s, but I totally forgave you a long time ago. I hung it on him, I was done. But I deserved so much better than that, and you know that was part of the deal you struck with the devil to avoid my eyes and heart. Let it go, sweet baby. I did, and it is well worth it.
Every inch of the remorse is time wasted.
My Goddess I hated watching you erode, but you said it wasn’t my business, and that — my forever friend — cut deep.
This is more than a love lost, or a plea for the past; it is a void that remains empty in hope for recovery, reflection, and most importantly, this is to let you know I was never mad. Yes, I was hurt, I was broken, and just confused, but I now know better. It doesn’t matter, and I want you to know I wish you were here, and I wish you well.
You are so very, very missed.
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Debbie Lynn is a mother, grandmother, artist, writer, dancer, yogi, rock climber, rock collector, and has been known to run with scissors. She is now sailing the West Indies with her husband on Indigo, their catamaran. She realized at a very young age that the outer reality was a far cry from her inner truth, and meeting her inner wisdom head on always turned into a challenge. The wonderment, curiosity and hypocrisy of life led to exploration and a cumulative documentation (art and journaling) of what she lovingly calls ‘the purge’. It is her way of ridding any negative energy from the daily grind. She says, “In essence, it is a way to start fresh and cleanse the soul.” Debbie has had numerous articles published in The Tattooed Buddha, Elephant Journal, The Edge Magazine, Sail Magazine, Multihulls Magazine and Simple Steps Real Life Magazine. Her daily posts can be found on Facebook.
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