From the Other Side of My Bed

9. My Overdose

I never wanted anyone to know me too deeply.
To know you more is to love you less.
No one was ever capable enough to handle me, or was fast enough to run beside me, or strong enough to catch me, it was always me saving myself.
But now..
I don't know what to do.
I used to know how to save myself.
And now it's like I'm paralyzed with something more beyond myself.
This unending sadness weighs so heavy in the soul.

This is why I'm happy I'm high all the time, so I cannot feel the weight of my words in this manuscript. It's like I found a water fountain in the Sahara desert.
I even see myself running up to it and splashing some of that cool water in my face.
It only takes a few hits from my wax pen to be able to function.

Ever since this morning, I felt something so great will happen.
Like my heart tells me.
And it keeps me hopeful for once.

But that gets interrupted when someone's knocking on my door.
Huh, I don't remember ever inviting someone over, today is supposed to be depressed day.
The day I always take to drown my demons in hard liquor and smoke my lungs black.
"Just a minute." I jogged to the bathroom, and splashed some water on my face.
Oh fuck! I forgot I had mascara on!
I look up to the mirror and see the smeared mascara all over my cheeks and I try to clean it off me but I fail and they keep knocking and I'm so frustrated now.
Who the fuck can it possibly be?
I changed into my black sweater, leggings and flip flops and ran to the front door just in time to catch Jerome on the other side, about to knock again.
"The fuck, dude? Why are you coming over here like you are the police or something?"
"When was the last time you even showered?" i see him sniff and i shrugged, i don't care.
"Why are you here?" I try keeping the door as close as possible, only my face showing. I looked around to see if he brought anyone but nothing, I sighed in relief.
"Because you don't answer texts or calls"
"Has it not occurred to you that maybe I don't want to answer them?" then it dawned on me that it sounded mean and sighed again. I open the door slightly, just enough to come out and close it immediately. "Why don't you want me to come in?"
"Because it's a mess." he steps closer, trying to come in but i get in the middle.
He's making me uncomfortable. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing, bro. It's messy inside, I said."
"I've seen your type of messy before and had not cared."
"Well, I care." and I pushed him back. "I'm fine, really. I've been just busy with shit and etc. have I been missing a lot?"
"Yes, a lot."
"Then let's hear it."
"Let's go inside then,"
"I said no. We can sit down outside, here," and i pull one of the chairs from my balcony. "Sit."
He reluctantly sits down and I sit on the ground as usual.
As he talks, I change to multiple positions. From sitting, to laying down, to leaning back in the wall, to sitting down next to him, to laying down again. Apparently i've missed a lot of drama going on with our friends but i can barely pay attention to what he's saying because i keep staring at how the leaves of my tree keeps dancing left to right and i get lost in the hues and the radiant sun rays penetrating through them and i'm in awe.
Jerome doesn't seem to notice so I'm okay.
"So what's been going on with you?"
I clear my throat, sitting back down as I fluff my hair and look up to the tree again.
"Nothing much, just the same bullshit with work and me getting high everyday."
"That's not good," he comments.
"Well, nothing is good. Papa hasnt talk to me at all and you know what, fuck him anyways."
"I can only imagine how that must feel for you."
"Yeah," I pull from my sleeve my wax pen and start smoking again.
I don't like the way Jerome came in to ruin my depressed day but I know he'll get more concerned about me if I don't answer the door.
"I was this close to go look for you at work, i think i did last friday but you had left early. What happened? Why did you leave early?"
"I wasn't feeling good."
In fact, I was telling the truth.
They were being so mean toward me that day and I couldn't take it anymore.
So I faked being sick and left.
What I was not telling Jerome was that I had gone out partying in the apartment of Maud.
She usually throws these parties once in a while, and they are absolutely full of excesses and partying with a bunch of hard liquor, drugs and hot, cute guys looking for party favors.
There was a lure about going with her, I didn't know what it was that led me going with her, but I would go and have the best time. Since the last time with the incident with meth, i tried to stay off other drugs besides weed. So I would just go for the loud music, cool cocktails and the occasional food there since in those days I wouldn't buy food for myself.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm okay. I promise i wont kill myself."
But that was a lie.
My last attempt was last, last weekend when i got so high that i climbed the fence of the pool area and jumped in the pool fully clothed and dived in to the bottom and sat there, in the bottom, staring at the palm trees and the silver moon shining as the water surrounded me and i blacked out.
All I remember was finding myself on the carpet of my home, drenched in water, hugging my dad's green blanket.
I, of course, didn't told this to jerome.
Being high all the time has created this thing about me never being honest about what's going on with me. It's like everything has to be a secret.
And it was.
It was my secret life.