There was a time when some things we did got a bit out of control and most of her memories of it became a big blur. I had to tell her about it, cause I was the one in charge almost the entire time. It was a period of liberation, a celebration of freedom. We had just moved away, freed ourselves from the duties that were never supposed to be ours and finally able to be whoever we wanted to be. No permissions were requested, no questions of what is right or wrong, only us and our wishes to become true. The biggest party was about to start and there was no time to say goodnight.
It may sound as cliché, but yes, it all started when we went to college. As part of our “fleeing plan”, I had decided that we would, by any means, not attend to university in the same city, or the same state as we lived in. We would go away, someplace where people were warmer and nicer and there would be some good distance between us and the coast. We chose to go back to our beloved countryside and to make the best out of our years there. A new city, the perfect scenario for a brilliant restart.
Everything was brand new and we wanted to do it all. Well, I did. She was mellow on most of the first days, still rethinking of whether it was a good idea to move away and reconsidering the plan. We didn’t know many people in town and it was indeed boring at the beginning. Just like our first experience at the countryside eight years before, we were “the new girl” and that wasn’t a very nice feeling at its start. She told me to take charge and I gladly obliged. I felt that it demanded some drastic decisions and I made them without hesitation. It was show time!
It happened as you may expect: parties, loads of new friends, countless beers and hours hanging around and getting to know everyone. I spent almost every free hour looking for a party or starting one. I would convince people to go to festivals in cities nearby and to transform our weekends in huge celebrations, no matter where or how: the idea was to meet new people, constantly be with them and to feel that this was the best choice. We had given ourselves to the nights and we were never alone. All the fun in the world was ours and there was nothing and no one who could take it away from us. So we thought.
Over the first couple of years, there were a few things I did not do under her request, but one in specific set us aside in many situations among our friends. The choice to not join them was the best one, I agreed, but I hated the feeling of being left behind or be “missing out” on something more than anything. Their parties were always boosted up by the ingredient that sets the night on fire and brings up the endless feeling to everything: cocaine. The “crystal sugar”, as we called it, was a constant companion among our friends. They would go to a ‘corner’ from time to time, or inside the car or wherever it was out of plain sight to take a hit. Few lines and they were good to go for the next hour. The party never stopped. Many days, they would drop me off or I would sleep in the car while they were still on with their effects and I hated myself in the next day for being the “loser”. She had a strict rule about it and I agreed many times. In the back of my head, I knew of its dangers and I was certain of keeping us out of it. It just didn’t last long enough.
I can recall every single detail of the day of our first time on it: the situation, the people around, the why’s and the how’s. It was a festival outside the city. Thirty-five people in one house, three days of continuous party. I resisted the first night and day, until the second night came along with an invitation. “Are you sure you don’t want to get some?”, I heard while standing by the door. “No, I’m good!”, I said. I looked at them going over the lines that whitened the dark kitchen counter and before I realised, I had already said it. “Fuck it, I’ll do it!”. I heard some cheering from one of my girlfriends and she walked me through it. Two lines and we were off. “Don’t find weird if your heart start beating super fast and if something bitter comes down your throat”, she said. I was anxious, but most of all, I was scared. I didn’t know what was I supposed to do or to expect from it. And then, while walking back to the concert pavilion, it kicked in. I felt like I had superpowers and that nothing and no one could ever beat me. It was the best feeling in the world and it was only the beginning.
Two years were flying by and “the sugar” became our new best friend. My ties with the group strengthened even more and our weekends were endless. Just as promised, I was never again the first one to go to bed. It was easier than food and cheaper too. For all the time we were with the guys, we never spent a single penny on it. We went out many times to buy it, but we never took a single money bill out of our own pockets for it. And it wasn’t necessary. “Your company is enough payment”, I heard overtime. Life was a big ass paradise and I was enjoying it all. Until the wake up call slapped us in the face.
She told me we were failing college and that I needed to stop. That degree was our dream and I was screwing it all up. I mean, I am a daredevil, I couldn’t say no to the party and yet, I am here to protect her from her demons and bad feelings and I thought this was one other way to not look at them. I gave her wings, but I forgot how to fly. Isolation, loneliness and resistance were what came next. We locked ourselves in the house, we wouldn’t answer phone calls and we would reject our friends. All we’d built over the years was gone in order to clean our system and resume the good things in our life. Some serious action was needed. They would knock our door countless times while I would cry and crave on the inside, with no answer. It lasted long enough until it all became silence. No one could know, no one would understand. I needed to cleanse my body from it and I had to do it myself. Barely eating, going out only for essentials. No one saw me again but the people behind the gates of the university. I became a ghost and I took my distance from everything.
With six months left for graduation, all was under control again. I was in better shape and those friends were missed, but not recalled. I decided it was a better choice to stay away from them, since they wouldn’t understand my choices. They were friends with the nights and that’s how they saw me as well. Only now I understand that. Now I see how much the cocaine helped us forget our demons and the suffering from the inside. How much it gave us the powers that many took away before we were even able to experience it. How much it dragged us down to a world of blindness.
As the years go by, I still remember her sitting on the corner every time I was to cut a line. I remember her face and how many times I chose to look away so then I could give us the power we so much craved for. “It is for the best”, I thought every time. Our life was forever changed and as a result, I became a strong and constant piece of her inner self. And yet, with the sorrows and addictions finally gone and with all the years of recalling those facts, we finally understood the meaning of my existence, setting free the demons responsible for the truth on the real reasons why I came into her life.
