He smelled wrong
He was recovering on his days with me, he was always on a come down and my house was his place to come to be looked after. So I got all the anger and pain he was going through while coming down and then the anger and frustration as he searched for his next high. He would cause a fight to get out of the recovery house, to give him a reason to not have to deal with the pain and emotions that were in him.
There were so many times that I questioned things. Now that a lot of the truth has come out and the gaps have been filled in, I can see that each time I questioned something I had been right to question it and there had been a lie at the basis of it.
Near the end of our relationship, it was the time before a proper end came. It was the longest we had been apart. I was lying in bed, feeling like a part of me was missing when he text asking if he could come around. I went through the usual patter, no, we’re not together, we’re not good for each other, we just hurt each other. This went on until 2 o’clock, I gave in and said ok thinking there’s no way he’s going to come at this time. He text me back saying he was on his way out the door. I think he had left about an hour before I officially gave in. He walked from the hostel to mine in the freezing cold, it was about an hour and a half’s walk. I heard his footsteps outside and tiptoed over to the door to let him in, holding my breath, not knowing what to expect. He bundled me up in to his arms and held me tight. I felt my tears soaking in to his cold cheeks, God how I’d missed him. I tucked my head in to his neck and breathed him in. He smelt wrong. Not alcohol, a chemical smell. I stepped back a little and looked him in the eyes and told him so. He looked away while saying, “what do you mean?” with a little laugh. He stepped around me in to the house and we walked over to cuddle up on the couch. That night it felt like sleeping with a stranger.
He crossed the line that night. A few days later I went on holiday with my family to visit my gran. It gave me time to pull myself together, to get some strength to end it.
Even though it was over, we were still texting. I kept nagging at him about the smell, it kept nagging at me.
At first I put it down to a clothes detergent he’d used. Then it dawned on me and I started searching for a chemical smell online. Crack, it was the only thing that kept coming up. The moment I realised that he had come to my house, with my daughter sleeping in the next room, with drugs in his system, it put an end to our relationship completely. There was no going back, no giving in to him. I was ready to kill him. I had visions of me and a frying pan in hand if he dared come to my door. I wanted him to come, I wanted to confront him, to scream at him. I wanted him to cuddle me and tell me it wasn’t true.
He still hasn’t told me the truth about that night. He went as far as telling me that he had taken ecstasy. Its been confirmed in other ways though that it was crack, I have seen it written by him without him knowing so. I have accepted now that he is an addict, he will take anything he can get his hands on to reach that high, to cover up the emotions that he can’t handle inside him. I hope that one day he will get help. I know that one day I am going to get a call from a mutual friend or his family telling me that he has been harmed by someone or overdosed on something. I know I shouldn’t care, though I do. Its like sitting back watching someone you care about kill themselves.