His mom’s number glowed at him, the only light in the room. He wondered, “Did the coroner end up with it? Wouldn’t want to talk me out of it anyway; might be business for him.”
He gently put his phone down, as he clicked it off. But his finger knocked the plastic syringe to the side as he let go, the sensation lingering as the room faded to black again.
He pictured what his mom would have said, “Just a little longer, Morris. Your roommate could get home any moment. You’ve made it three years!” Tears filled his eyes again. So dark, without her.
The excitement of the high yelled at him, “Just do it now, before you talk yourself out of it.” It seemed like the only light. But it was a dark light, an exciting dumpster fire.
He had church friends but they just never knew how to help. They just asked if he’d been to NA recently. Plus it seemed harder to look them up right now than it was to just push the needle in.
And his friends had all ‘drawn boundaries’ last time he relapsed. They were fading away now, he was moving deeper into the dark.
A surge of the dirty fire pulled him into the dark strongly again. He felt the tipping happen, falling now, nothing to hold onto. He had no will left to fight it.
“God,” The whisper slipped from his lips. He leaned forward and let his fingers crawl across the table until he found it.
His hands were so used to the feel of the tube of plastic. Then the flick flick and the drip. Then the prick in his arm. His hands held the memory like they had been rehearsing for three years.
He knew he was leaving all behind. Going into the dark where no one would be but himself. He was for no one, absolutely no one but himself.
He sighed deeply and sunk into the sofa as his whole body warmed with the sweet fire.
Deeper into the black. Everybody behind. He knew this probably meant more years of alienating people, if he even survived. This fire was the only sort of light in this darkness. This fire that he, for these moments, didn’t care was poisoning his organs slowly.
His heart suddenly cramped. He caught his breath, the pain excruciating.
He held his chest in pain as he free fell in complete darkness surrounded by nothing but the realization that at the bottom of all things it would be only dark. Nothing to join him there.
Eventually he felt his heart relax. . . The pain relieving with it. His blood settled and filled it, never to be pushed out again. He started to feel a deep cold fill him.
Even his freefall was dead. Stillness nothing but dark. Coldness.
What he couldn’t have imagined at the end of it all was the level of loneliness. This would be the forever he had condemned himself to.
Then, a single star flickered in the distance. If it were only a star with him here it would be infinitely better than emptiness.
But it slowly grew. And elongated; it was a flame. He cold almost feel it’s warmth. And as he realized what it was, who it was, the infinite loneliness was broken.
He fell to his knees, though not able to avert his view from his lifeline.
“I couldn’t see you, but you are the only one that has not left me. Even here.”
-Raw Spoon, October 5, 2022