Monday, February 27, 2006
Yesterday was bad. Really bad. The morning started off well enough, breakfast with a work colleague, then we went to several museums and drank milkshakes. Nice and innocent. But I had exactly 100 bucks in my wallet, so as soon as my colleague had said goodbye I was dialing my dealer's number. The dealer is older- in his forties or fifties, It's hard to tell. He's from the middle east I think, fat, greasey and balding, with slitty eyes. My nickname for him (in his absence) is old fat-fuck. Anyway, I waited on the side of the road for him to come, rubbing my hands to keep warm. Finally he arrived. "Hi sweetheart, jump in. Let me take you home." "Uh no, I'm not going home" (that would mean having to share with my boyfriend who has recently been sneaking around behind my back). We drive past a coffee place, I know they'll let me use the bathroom. I'm impatient to get high now, lose the aching legs. "No-no," old fat-fuck laughs, "let me take you somewhere nice and warm to do it." We arrive at some weird little apartment, there is just a living room, no bedroom. I go straight to the bathroom, It's clean. My vein is hard to find, the needle is old and blunt. When I'm done I step out, the lighting has changed, two red candles and there's this cheesy soft music playing. I'm feeling very fuzzy headed. He pats his knee. My big mistake: thinking he had a bit more smack to give me, I go over and sit on it. Straight away his chubby hands have pushed under my top and are all over my breasts. I'm straining to get away, then he starts kissing me, forcefully. one hand firmly on the back of my head. I keep trying to go, but he's strong. He pulls out his cock trying to get me to touch it and then kiss it. He keeps pulling my face towards it. With his other hand he is trying to rub my clit, he's about two inches off, tapping this strange spot at the top of my thigh. NO just doesn't register. Nor does the fact that I have a boyfriend etc. etc. Two hours later he drops me at home, forcing one last disgusting kiss at the side of the road. Now I don't know who to call for drugs. He said unless I want to be his girlfriend- in which case he'll give me free smack, I can't call him anymore. So that's it. There's no way he's laying a finger on me again. Last night makes me sick.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
That's been my whole day. And according to Saturday routine, I didn't leave the house. It was another wintry, slippery day, so from 7am I drifted in an out of sweetly drugged dreams. The boyfriend was here but according to another new routine we didn't snuggle or fuck or talk. Our once dazzling sex and bambi-eyed love is over. I wonder if he realises it too?
Friday, February 24, 2006
It's early morning again. I have nothing on my schedule except a meeting at 9.30am, which means I have to leave home right away. And then read the new york times for eight hours, trying not to think of drugs. It's the anticipation that kills me. Sometimes I just say I'm going to 'brainstorm' and catch a cab to my dealer's. It's risky in case anyone needs me, and it always takes at least an hour and a half. Last night, I got my laptop back from the pawn shop- just an hour before they would be the new owners. Now I have to figure out how to protect it from my boyfriend. He's the one who pawned it. I've considered locking it with those metal cord locks for laptops. But what to? He's strong and he has a lot of tools. If he's junksick there's not much I can do. And I kind of understand, I know that creeping feeling, the anxiety in the heart, time trickling past.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
So that's it. Easy really. There's a glass wall behind me, but I'm blocking my computer screen from my colleagues. The interns that bug me every 30 seconds. I need to keep my ears pricked, eyes sensitive to shadow. Soon I'll be home, in the grime. With a needle in my arm. I'll explain more then.