My heart skipped a beat when I saw him standing on the other side of the loud and crowded living room. I don't know why I didn't expect to see him here. Drake was quite the party-goer. He was always looking for a good time. Just a short one. Nothing permanent. Nothing that "strapped him down," he would say. Ha! As if I had been the one holding him back. Not once did he blame his love affair with those stupid pills of his. He never saw how much the Xanax actually took from him. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't care.

I first met Drake at a party (of course). He'd taken some sort of interest in me. I wasn't sure why. I was actually very shy and had low self-esteem. Honestly, I've never even had a boyfriend before. Maybe that's the type of prey he goes after. Maybe he has it all figured out in one simple system. He gives you attention, treats you like you're the most beautiful thing in the room, and then he tells you something about himself. Something big and personal and sometimes made up so that you think you know everything about him when in fact...you have no idea who Drake Parker is. But you begin to fall hard for the piece of him that he showed you - the piece that you think is everything there is to know about him. He somehow latches onto you like a leach and sucks you dry. And the second you think that maybe he's yours forever, he suddenly falls away and searches for someone else who can offer him more, leaving only a piercing wound and an empty bed.

At first, it was pure bliss. In a room full of people, he sat down next to me. He gave me his attention. He laughed when I spoke. He listened to what I had to say. He wanted to know who I was. Me. Of all people. At first, I deterred him and all of his attempts. But he knew he'd lure me in somehow, and he did.

I spent every day with him. Every waking moment. It all happened so fast. Suddenly, he was the most important person in my life. I was willing to do anything for him. And he was willing to let me.

He'd buy me things: little meaningless trinkets from the dollar store. But they always meant everything to me. It meant that he was thinking of me. Even though they were dirt cheap, I still thought they were priceless. I knew that he didn't have a lot of money. But the truth is that he just had more important things to spend his money on, like himself and his Xanax habit. However, at the time, I couldn't see that. I guess I kind of saw him as someone who was both intriguing and who needed to be saved. My life was always plain. He spiced it up. He made things different. He made me see things from a new perspective.

My thoughts were broken when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked over to see a familiar face. He slid past me whilst apologizing, then walked directly towards my ex. His name was Xangel. At least, that's all I knew him by because that's what Drake called him. If the name didn't give it away, he was the supplier - the man who didn't give two shits about Drake. Ironically, Xangel meant everything to him.

I tried not to look on with jealousy as I watched the boy trade a couple twenties for his number one lover. Those fucking pills. I swear they ruined him. I'm sure he wasn't always this way. He didn't always put them first. He'd gotten kicked out of his house because of them. He never admitted that to me, but it's something that I just kind of knew. That's why he stayed with his band mate. The parties they had there didn't help him to slow down, of course.

Drake poured the pills onto his palm, and one by one, he counted each tiny blue circle. He would always confirm that he got the amount he paid for. Sometimes, he'd lose track of how many he'd taken, and he would get so pissed because he thought someone had stolen them. He's even accused me before, but he apologized a day later. I thought it was because he cared. It wasn't. It's because he needed me, but not in a way that any girl would want to be needed.

He needed me for money. He needed me for rides. He needed me for sex. Although, now that I look back on it, I think he might have been going other places for that. He needed me because I was his security. I was his affirmation that he would always have his Xanax. I couldn't always see this, though. We were far into the relationship before I started to open my eyes...too far. I don't remember when it was before I actually started to grow a backbone. Months went by while I held the knowledge of the true nature of our relationship before I first said no to him. You think that I would've felt empowered and brave. I did not. I felt like a bad person. I felt guilty. He only wanted one thing from me really, and I had denied him that request. I would not give him money, and I would not take him to meet up with Xangel. He was shocked to say the least, then he was angry, then depressed, and then he said he was sorry.

And then I gave in. I fucking gave in.

However, the next time, I did not. Nor the time after that. I was in love with this boy, but I don't think he ever loved me - not even for a second - and that hurt. He led me on the whole time.

He'd said that it was my fault. I wasn't giving him room to breathe. I was always texting him, always calling him, always wanting to be next to him. However, that wasn't the truth. If I didn't call him, he'd tell me to come over. He'd make it sound like he wanted to spend time with me, but when I'd show up, he'd hop in the car before I could even get out and tell me what our plans were for the night. Drake always had our whole day mapped out. Everything was always planned according to his needs. Never once was I put first. I don't think I was anywhere on his priority list. It was just him and his best pal Xanax, and that's all he really needed.

When Drake finished counting his pills, he tossed four of them into his mouth, then he picked his Budweiser up off of the end table and chased the pills down with it. It was then that he lifted his eyes and moved them around the room. Now that he had his fix, he was ready for some fun. His eyes would stop on each girl - size her up, observe her movements, study her mannerisms. If she was close enough, he would eavesdrop on her conversation. It was all part of the process. It was how he chose his next victim.

And then his eyes stopped on me. Neither of us forced a smile. Neither of us waved. I could tell what was going on in his head. Is she still weak enough? he asked himself. Can I reel her back in and make her fall for me again? And the answer, my friends: yes, he probably could. But he didn't. Instead, he caught sight of a younger brunette girl. I could tell that she was the one, and I was proved correct when he stood and made his way towards her.

I'm not sure how he picks them. I don't know exactly what he sees. It's like he feels a lack of confidence and an extreme shyness and daddy issues radiating from you. He sees it in your aura or something. It's not because he finds you exciting or attractive or interesting that he chooses you. In fact, it's the exact opposite. And now that I know that, it just feels like a stab in my heart.

But I will no longer wallow in depression and self-loathing. I no longer blame myself. If anything, Drake is the one that you should be pitying right now. You see, he will never know what it's like to truly love someone. Even his so-called "friends" talk about him behind his back and have no respect for him. He's going to be alone for the rest of his life. And one day, he's going to realize that maybe the pills aren't all that worth it anymore. And it's going to be too late to go back and change things. And I'm not going to be there. I'm not going to wait on him or wait for him any longer. And he's going to regret that. He's going to need me. And once again, I'll tell him no. This time, I'm going to walk away from him. I'm going to leave him all fucked up and heartbroken. And I'm not going to feel the slightest bit of guilt.