Exactly 5 years ago, I boarded a plane to Japan to see a friend — a lady. I traveled halfway around the world to see one person. Some may find this incredible — indeed it is. We were close. I knew all her deepest darkest secrets and she knew all of mine — or at least what she asked of me. When we met, I was one person. When she saw me again, I was someone else. Two different people who shared the same name and face.
People change. Life is dynamic and you can’t expect everyone you know to be the same year after year. I think many people don’t realize that. Everyone has different chapters and some aren’t the most poetic. I didn’t know what to tell her. I was different and not all of it good.
Like all women men are close to, they soon uncover the truth one way or another. The person she thought she knew was off at night on alcohol fueled benders. The feelings were nice. The lifestyle was chaotic. My body felt numb, but it’s to be expected. Alcohol and a few other illicit substances are a match made in heaven. I was still reeling over the feelings that come from newly being single and having to adjust to life in a new city. It was the perfect storm. For a while, our constant texts, phone calls, and Skype chats were keeping me in line. She was my safety net — unknowingly to her.
The armor I had began to develop cracks. When you become accustom to a lifestyle of drugs and drinking, talking about it is like second nature. You tend to not realize how wrong what you’re saying is to the other person. I remember she became startled at my comments, my praise for the fun it brings, the power that rushed through me in the night, but she stood by me. Well, at least in the beginning.
My world came crashing down. She finally left me after one last fight. It was the end, but I knew it was coming. I expected it, but it still hurt nonetheless. I use to feel guilty for how it ended, but after some time, I realized it wasn’t ever meant to be. It’s not to say I wasn’t at fault. I was and I admit it.