Well, I sure do miss my friend.

He's been gone a week, but in reality he's been gone a long time. The guy I fell in love with was the one whose artwork was always left all over the art room, while the other students hid theirs away in their folders. The one who never talked too much or tried to show off. The one who made me laugh and keep laughing, over and over, at the same thing, even now. The one who I was always aware of in high school--we'd talk on the phone or hang out here and there and then each fold back into our own lives. He lent me Beck, Mellow Gold and 1984. I lent him drums that somebody left at my house, and he performed and taped songs he wrote. He taught himself how to play the drums and guitar, and sang about our principal who was busted videotaping the cheerleaders changing at his pool party. "Principal, my principal. What happened to your principles?" were my favorite lyrics. One time we met up and he showed me some of his paintings. There was this huge one of a girl contemplating entering a doorway. All be darned if she didn't look like me! He never said it was and I never asked. Another time we went creek walking and I fell in the water right away. I had dressed too cool so we went back to his car to see if he had something either to wear or dry off with. I was terribly amused by his collection of tan pleated Dockers, all paint splattered, folded in a pile in his trunk, next to the t.v. with the shot out screen. He just laughed at himself. He told me that one time his phone rang and he guessed it was me even though we hadn't talked in a long long time. Of course, it was me, and he couldn't believe it. He told everybody about it.

He lost his lifelong friend Paul to cancer after graduation. He hates himself for not visiting his sick friend or attending his funeral. I attended the funeral even though I wasn't close with the kid. His drawing class drew at the cemetary. He walked up to his friend's grave by chance. Our first son's middle name is Paul.

He wrote me funny love letters and drew me pictures. We had outgrown smoking pot but would dabble in the stronger things. I knew I had an addictive personality so I'd steer clear of the hardcore stuff. Not him, he'd tried it all over the years. He was pretty clean with me, so I didn't see his hobby as a habit.

He started to pull away from me when I had the babies. When Rachel was one (2001) he got together with his loser buddy and tried heroin for the first time. I found out about it when I saw him about to use it in our bedroom. I freaked, cried, told his parents, and he met with a drug counselor who told him his heroin use cost him his wife and kids. One time the guy came home and his family and their stuff was gone.

He stayed clean until 2004, but his drinking progressively worsened, which didn't really bother me at the time. He was doing eBay and I found out I'd been signing for packages of pills to be delivered to my house. Next thing you know our brother-in-law doesn't wake up one morning after a night hanging out with us. I found a heroin needle in my husband's pocket. I'm not sure if he feels guilty for another lost friend.

Drugs steal lives away. The user wants to escape but then can't find the way back home. I hope his new friends help him uncover his true self, help him find his way home. I hope I get to enjoy my friend again.