Love Is The Drug

It was a June night in 1923. I was walking into a Gatsby party with my younger sister, Madge. It may seem like an insignificant activity for two young women to be doing, but to me it was everything. It was the anniversary of the night left the love of my life, and I walked out on Jay Gatsby.

"Now Madge, Please stay away From Mr.Gatsby," I say to my sister as our driver let us out of the car on his long gravel drive. The place was already bumping, and jazz was flowing just as freely as the booze. It was well known that temperance didn't apply under Gatsby's jurusdiction. "Madge, I know I shouldn't ask this, but why?" squeaked my sister while she checked her lipstick in her pocket mirror.

Madge had always been curious. Too bad Our Mother had always told her to keep to herself. I think that if she wouldn't have been raised with a mom who still believed in the 1800's etiquette, She would have been smart.

"Because he's addicted," I say bluntly.

"To what?" Madge questions again.

"Cheap and Meaningless love." I almost whisper as I look up at the mansion and we begin our walk through the magnificent entryway, "All of his adult life he's always had some lover or muse. He's bad news Madge," I say a little more pertinently so she understands.

Madge was freshly 18 and this was her first big party since coming of age in prohibition. Soon were being crammed through doorways and halls into an enormous ballroom. While holding on to her through the hustle, I managed to lead her our the back and into Gatsby's sprawling patio space where we tucked away on a small balcony with champagne and cigarettes in hand from the waiters.

"Madge, Do you want to know what happend between Mr.Gatsby and me? I asked, feeling confident from alcohol and nicotine finally in my blood. She hesitated for a moment, the shyly shook her head yes.

"Alright, so this is how it all began."