When you wake up remembering vivid details of a dream, it’s enough to make you think. If in this dream, a friend who has passed on decides to show up, you hit snooze and close your eyes, willing yourself to drift back.
I hate that I learned about Sara’s passing through Facebook. That I let years go by without staying in better touch. How we both fueled our addictions for over a decade, and neither one of us stopped to actually talk about why. We knew the other was fucked up and had a story – but with every pill, chopped-up line and shot glass, we pacified our pain.
Last night’s dream was so real, it was like no time had passed.
Sara and I met just out of high school. We were in our early twenties and already veteran party-girls, which means our drug use kicked off before the ink on our high school diplomas could dry.
High school. Drugs? Not my kid!
As I’ve said before back in March, it’s pretty easy to fool mom and dad. Most parents don’t see