I thought Davis was joking. I told him to shut up and stop playing around. He repeated, "Hope, I am not fucking around. I got my hands on some good stuff. Girl, I am on my way to see you." It was getting late. My roommates were still at work. Every night at curfew, one of the staff would come around to each apartment to do a head count. If you did not follow the rules, you would be kicked out. (The first year in a recovery addicts' life is very important. It is a fragile time: learning new coping mechanisms, restoring family and relational friendships, being honest, getting a job, and working a program.) I nervously said, okay Davis. See you when you get here. I had about twenty-five minutes until room checks. He called, "I am here. Get the fuck down here and see me." I laughed. At this point, I hoped he was joking until I realized he was not. I looked down from my balcony and there he was with another acquaintance from rehab. I walked out and met them.
"Davis, stop fucking around. Did you relapse? You better not have."
"Hope, I did. I am sick as fuck."
"Damn. I do not have any money and I would not give you any to get high. You know me better than that."
"Damn girl, I am sorry. I am so proud of you. You need to stay clean. But look at this. "
He pulled out a clear baggie, full of white powder, dope. I could physically feel an enormous amount of anxiety. It felt like my heart dropped into my stomach. I knew I could not participate. I immediately thought about my children. I had too much to live for and my babies were my everything.
That did not stop the thoughts circulating in my mind. Sneak out. And have fun tonight and come back tomorrow. Noone will know. It truly felt like a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. On one hand, every fiber of my being, wanted to get high. To have a taste. On the other hand, I logically knew, there would be no coming back tomorrow. Everything I had worked for would be gone. In one decision, one lapse in character, one moment, my life would be over. Again.
Davis and I spoke a couple of minutes. I told him I had to go back inside. I did not want to get in trouble. I gave him a hug.
"Davis, please be careful, and do not die. Call me tomorrow. You need to get back to Blue Ridge immediately before something bad happens."
"Hope, I love you girl. You are a good person."
That was the last time I physically laid eyes on him. As I walked into the apartment, solace come over me. I got ready for bed. I was proud of myself. I prayed to God; I thanked him. I was incredibly grateful. I was safe, in my bed; and I would not wake up in the morning with regrets.
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