Lainey's Story

23

Krist didn't fully get out of bed, beyond using the restroom and eating, until the following afternoon. He dragged himself to the shower, I knew his body must have felt like it weighed about five hundred pounds and his joints ached.

"You want me to go pick you up a blunt?" I asked when he came out, freshly clean, his lower half wrapped in a towel.

He completely froze when he saw Lainey's face and throat, biting the inside of his cheek silently before sitting down on the bed and burying his face in his hands, "Fuck I can't believe I did that to you," he told her, "Lainey...Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry. Fuck I'm such a piece of shit."

I didn't know what to say. Telling him that it was fine and ok was a lie because it wasn't but I always wasn't going to tell him that's what happens when he doesn't sleep for too long.

He looked up at me with glassy red eyes, "Fuck, Lainey, I don't even know why I tripped out. Like I remember it kinda but...fuck dude."

Krist wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, "I need to stop doing this shit, bro, what the fuck, man...like I need to just get clean before I do something even more fucked up," he was crying, "I know I can't just fuckin' tweak a little bit, I go full retard and then I do fucked up shit."

I nodded, feeling tears spring to my eyes, "We can try to get clean, hun. I think it would be good for us."

This was something that routinely happened. He would act like a psycho, feel guilty, and swear it was time to get clean so we would and then we would relapse. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

I moved to the bed, taking a seat beside him, and burrowed into his embrace. We held each other for what seemed like an eternity, Krist quietly crying to himself telling me repeatedly how fucking sorry I was.

"I promise you, I am never going to put my hands on you again," he swore but we both knew that wasn't true. He wasn't lying, I wholeheartedly believed he didn't want to but his addiction turned him into someone else.

We spent the day laying in bed, watching reruns of Steve Wilkos on the Nosey app. I ordered Chinese food for delivery because we were both starving.

"I don't understand how you don't hate me," he told me later, "I'm such a fucking piece of shit to you."

"I'm a piece of shit to you sometimes too," I replied, a mouthful of noodles.

"Not the way I am," he said woefully.

Inhaling slowly, I finally told him, "I don't hate you because I know you'd never do what you've done to me when you're in a good state of mind."

Krist was crying again, "I just..bro like my dad used to beat on my mom, I like never wanted to be like him, you know? And yeah, I'm high but that ain't no excuse. I still did it. It still doesn't make it ok, right? And obviously, it's something in me because it keeps coming out."

I could see where his comedown was going and it wasn't a happy place.

"Let's get up and go for a walk somewhere," I suggested, wanting to keep him preoccupied so he wasn't focusing on the darkness that was filling him at the moment, "It's still kinda decent outside, we can hit the dispensary up to and get some weed, maybe even some edibles. I still have a little money left from my mom."

It took a lot of coaxing but I got him out of bed and dressed, he didn't want to go for a walk because he felt self-conscious about how he looked but he agreed we could go get some edibles and a blunt for the night. I wasn't much of a bud smoker but edibles were fun and they made sex so freaking euphoric.

Fernando was leaving one of the neighbors' apartments as we were returning, "What it do?" He called across the lot, swaggering over.

Krist passed him the blunt, "Chillin," he replied.