I'm sitting on one of the stone picnic tables that line the front. The cars pull up. Out stumbles someone and the car (barely gettin' the door closed) drives away...Trudging his way up the walkway. He doesn't meet my gaze, he's too ashamed to face even me, a stranger. I don't recall seeing hope in his eyes but I could definitely see the defeat when he rounded the corner and saw how many other people were there for the same thing he was...Detox.
I sat there taking it all in...I had never been in "this part" of Dallas before. I'd never been up close and personal with addicts. I had no idea that it was going to rip open my heart. I was there with my friend. I got thrown into his addiction by his parents. They were away at the time...One lives down in San Antonio and the other was in Louisiana working...He needed to get to detox. I didn't know what to expect. I was anxious. I was scared. I was fascinated. He did try to look me in the eyes. He looked weary. He's younger than me, yet he looked older than me and far older than I'd remembered him looking.
We sat and we waited. I'd not seen him in many years so you would think we would have had much more to say to one another. Instead, we sat in silence, and we waited. All at once he started to apologize to me. He was so sorry that I had to see him in this condition. He was so sorry that he hadn't kept in touch over the years. He was sorry that he was in the position he's in. He cried. I cried. I looked around and there are more and more people standing around. This is looking more like a gathering. All of these people were waiting patiently to try and get into detox. There were probably about 50 men and women standing around, and then the dreadful news came...Only four beds were available. Two beds in the men's unit, and two beds in the women's unit. Fortunately, for us...We were the very first ones there and since it was first come first serve, we were pretty confident he'd get a bed, and he did indeed.
And so it began...My fascination with heroin...
Love ya <3Ana