It’s 01:29am. All I can think about is smoking meth – rolling the bulb in the flame until the crystals liquify, boil and the roiling vapours pour up the pipe into my lungs. Involuntarily I draw in air like I am sucking on that meth pipe, recalling the cool, smooth fumes that push my lungs outward, to breaking point.
It’s 01:35, now, and it’s too late at night to pick up the phone. I know my sponsor and my friends will be angry that I said that, but it’s ok. It’s ok. Look, I only need to call them to confess my craving. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand. I’ve got this. I’m ok.
It was just a moment in time. I’ve been clean long enough to know I will still be clean in an hour, a day, a year…and I haven’t been clean so long that I’ve…
View original post 64 more words