Fighting to Forget:
Chapter Eight;
Potent Urges
Caution: This story contains Adult Themes. Some of these themes include: Angst, Depression, Self harm, Alcohol use, Explicit drug use, Adult language, Gore and (some) Forced sexual situations.
Disclaimer: All situations and characters interpreted here are a work of complete fiction. Some characters are based on the wildly popular cult CW series; Supernatural© owned by Eric Kripke. I do not claim to own these characters in any way, shape or form. Any other similarities between real or actual events or persons (Aside from previously mentioned) is purely coincidental and they are in no way intended to offend or appropriate the subjects that I have adapted to these particular circumstances taking place within my story. Thank you.
If you do not feel comfortable with any of these themes or situations, then this story may not be for you.
Reader discretion is advised. Rated M 18+ Mature audiences only.
Again, to reiterate for clarity; I do not own Supernatural© or any of the characters belonging to Eric Kripke. Enjoy!
Okay, just another warning right quick before you start to read. This chapter went a whole lot deeper and darker than I expected it to. Very heavy angst here, guys. It took a dark turn about halfway through and although I hope I ended it on a fairly good note, I hope this doesn't trigger anyone or make you feel terrible about what you just read. That's the very last thing I want to do. So, apologies in advance if this chapter is a bit too heavy for you. I promise more fluffy stuff and maybe some more enjoyable things in the next chapter to make up for it. Thank you guys again for reading! Enjoy! (:
It felt so good to be able to stretch out on the bed. The crisp sheets underneath me were cool to the touch and smelled of fresh laundry. I hummed happily as I wrapped my arms around my pillows and squeezed them against me. The texture of my cast was scratchy against the linens and made an uncomfortable sound as it pulled across them. I was going to have a hard time getting used to that.
Curious as to what Castiel was doing, I opened my eyes and scanned the room. He stood by the couch in the attached lounge area and was flexing his hands on the lapels of his trenchcoat, almost as if he were contemplating taking it off but couldn't really decide either way. It was interesting to watch since I had never seen him take off a single article of clothing. Ever. Maybe I could coax him out of a few more layers.
There's the pervert inside of me talking.
"Why don't you take your coat off and stay awhile?" I asked casually, resting my chin on my cast. Castiel turned in my direction and gave me a bewildered look.
"Does having my coat on signal that I am about to leave?"
I couldn't help but to smile at him. He was just about as innocent as you could possibly be and it was so darn adorable. Then it occurred to me that if he were indeed a virgin, I would be responsible for teaching him how to… well, you know. And it would fall on my shoulders to make sure I taught him correctly. Nobody should be a selfish lover. There were far too many fuckboys these days messing around with young women, confusing them and shaming their sexuality while simultaneously teaching them all the wrong things about what it meant to pleasure someone.
Castiel always went above and beyond whatever was asked of him. I learned this much from how Sam and Dean spoke of his dedication while they were battling Lucifer. Castiel was always there to do whatever was asked, to help in any possible way he could. Even if that meant risking his own life. He was always happy to bleed for the Winchesters as long as it meant they were safe. I was also very sure that meant taking his time to ensure he was very thorough with his love making. He had so much untapped potential.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Castiel's rough voice broke my trance and snapped me back to reality. I had to blink a couple times as I composed myself, quickly trying to flush all of the dirty things I wanted to do to him from my thoughts.
"S-Sorry," I stuttered nervously. "I was daydreaming."
"In the middle of a conversation?" He paused and appeared to think for several seconds. "You humans are very complex. May I ask what exactly you were daydreaming about?"
Taking off your clothes with my teeth and tasting every single inch of you with my tongue.
I smiled at him, my face tinged hot with embarrassment. I waved my hand in the air absently in front of me. "Nothing, Cass. Nevermind." I sat up on the bed and crossed my legs underneath me.
Dark brows furrowed over brilliant blue eyes, but he didn't press me any further. Instead he slid his trench coat from his shoulders, folded it neatly in half and sat it on the back of the recliner. And since he was already taking off his clothes, I didn't see the harm in encouraging him to relax just a bit more.
"Your suit jacket as well."
When he turned to give me another bemused look, I gestured to his clothes. "Don't you ever get tired of being so dressed up all the time?"
He glanced down at himself and pulled at his shirt absently. "I don't know. I have always thought these clothes to be a part of my vessel. It never occurred to me to remove them."
"Your vessel?" I asked quizzically. What did he mean by vessel? All that came to mind was random ass thoughts about boats.
"Yes. His name was Jimmy Novak. Although, his soul is in Heaven now."
What the fuck? So he's inside someone else's body? Would that technically classify as a possession?
"So… you're telling me that you're possessing someone else's body?" Man, that was pretty fucked up. Here I was lusting after some poor dead man's body while an angel rode around inside of him. But, I had to admit, even though this was all kinds of fucked from Sunday, at least Castiel had good taste in men.
"Yes. Jimmy was a very devout man. I merely answered his prayer." He definitely had a talent for making monotone sound sexy, that's for damn sure.
"So, what do you really look like then? And where are your wings for that matter, are they always hidden?"
Castiel smiled at me affectionately, his eyes lighting up with something I couldn't quite place.
"You ask an awful lot of questions," He chuckled, amusement dancing in his icy blue eyes. "My true size is roughly equivalent to that of your Chrysler Building. My wings exist on the Seraphic plane parallel to our current one and I can summon them as I please. It is odd, though, your senses seem too dull to perceive them at this moment. As for what I look like… well, I admit that I'm slightly disappointed you can't already see my true self. It seems that your Grace has yet to be touched." He paused for a second, studying me intensely. "You have never used your powers."
"I never even knew I had any. Not until I met you." My Grace, untouched? What in the hell was that supposed to even mean?
Cass looked away then, turning from me like he said something that offended me. "I'm sorry. I know this is a drastic change for you."
"Yes, but a welcome one." I climbed off of the bed and stepped towards him. He turned his head and stared at me like he was trying to understand a complicated riddle. So I kept on speaking.
"Before I met you... Dean and Sam… I had nothing else to live for. It was over for me. I had my end all mapped out and everything. My family, my friends… all gone. Now I've got purpose. You gave me a reason to keep on living, Cass."
Castiel stared at me, apprehension plastered across his rugged features. He sighed noisily through his nose and sank down onto the edge of the couch, folding his hands neatly in his lap.
"It is very displeasing for me to know that you were going to end your life, Whitney. Although I am very thankful you have since changed your mind, I still feel aggrieved. Tell me, have I really sparked such a sudden and profound change in you? Or are you, as they say, 'putting on airs' to appease me?"
He used air quotations as he said the last part, causing me to burst into a fit of giggles. This apparently shocked him because he stared at me, mouth agape, like I had gone insane.
"I-I don't understand. Why are you laughing?" He sounded somewhat horrified.
"Because you're just so cute!" I giggled. "It's hard for me to take you seriously right now."
That and I just downright loathed talking about my feelings. I know, I know, not a positive coping skill. I shouldn't just bottle up my emotions and refuse to deal with them. I get it, but I always had trouble with expressing myself and Castiel didn't make it any easier for me to open up to him.
Besides, trying to explain to Castiel that he was the majority of why I felt the way I did would just be awkward for both of us. How do you explain something to someone else if you didn't quite understand it yourself? It was like a blind person describing color to another blind person. Terrible idea. I knew I wanted Cass, knew that I wanted him by my side, but I didn't know why I felt that way. There was always a reason for everything.
Castiel glanced down at his lap where he was fidgeting with his fingers now, his face tinged red with embarrassment.
"Here I thought I was getting this whole 'human' thing down," He muttered, sounding obviously discouraged. "All these emotions you humans feel are so overwhelming for me. I was only mortal for such a limited amount of time and yet it is far easier to fight a war in Heaven than to feel what you do in any single given day."
I made my way over to him, placing my right hand on his cheek tenderly. "You're doing really well though, Castiel. Seriously. I can't speak for any other Angels because you're the only one I've ever met, but if you're not used to feeling so many things all at once… I have to give you credit where it's due. Consider me impressed."
He tilted his chin back and made eye contact. Castiel was so damned handsome, and it didn't come as a shock this time when he stole the breath from my lungs once again. His large, steel blue eyes were wide with sorrow as he studied me, and it tugged uncomfortably at the corners of my heart. An angel shouldn't look so dejected. I mean, he was an angel for Pete's sake! A celestial being created by God, to be the warriors of Heaven. He should be in a white robe, perched on a fluffy cloud strumming his harp, not down here on earth wallowing in sin, filth and suffering from human emotion. That was probably the quickest way to damnation.
"It's complicated being human, Cass. I didn't mean for my comment to make you feel self conscious. It's just genuinely refreshing to talk to you." I brushed my thumb lightly across his cheek, thoroughly enjoying how soft he felt under my touch. "There's so much you don't know about being human, and believe me, that's a good thing. You're lacking all of the poor qualities we suffer from while maintaining all of the angelic qualities that make you who you are. You're so upfront and brutally honest and I wouldn't have you any other way."
The side of his mouth twitched up into a small smile and I returned it happily. I could live the rest of my life in content just by making him smile.
"Thank you for that." He whispered, his gravelly voice deep and alluring. "I feel much better, I think."
"You're very welcome, Cass. Don't ever change who you are, okay?"
He nodded once, solemnly, but kept his attention on my eyes. The way he watched me, ice-blue eyes boring into gray, it was like he could see through them and into my very soul. I felt open and exposed but strangely wasn't bothered by it. Because this was Cass, and that meant something special.
He was absolutely the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. Not solely based on his looks, no. That was only a small part of what mesmerized me. The real attraction, whatever enraptured me from the very second I first laid eyes on him… the way I felt that lightning sharp feeling shoot throughout my body… The real key to the bewitchment lay hidden deep behind innocent sapphire eyes.
I wanted so desperately to know, to understand what captivated me so. The longer I stared into those wide cobalt pools, the closer I felt to the answer I was looking for. I slid my thumb across his cheek again, caressing him softly but much more slowly this time, savoring how delightful he felt. Castiel's eyes fluttered closed at my touch, but opened wide in alarm when I finally withdrew my hand.
"May I ask you something?" he asked, his deep, guttural baritone coaxing a heated response from between my thighs.
"Sure, why not." I smiled at him, impressed that I was able to keep my voice steady. I was delighted that it was just the two of us in my room. Being alone with him excited me, like a teenaged girl left alone with her boyfriend for the first time. Castiel's expression stayed pensive as he gazed at me.
"May I kiss you?"
My heart skipped a beat and lodged itself in my throat. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and neck, the pressure deafening in my eardrums. My stomach lurched with anxiety and my hands suddenly felt clammy and damp.
It amazed me that this man- this Angel, could elicit a reaction from me so powerful with a single question alone. It was such a simple and innocent request. But my thoughts were always straying where they shouldn't and were currently at the complete opposite of the spectrum. The roughness of his sultry voice combined with his devilishly good looks had me so turned on that I could barely breathe, let alone speak.
I settled on nodding my approval.
Castiel's serious look melted away as he stood up, and I could have sworn he was smirking at me. His large hands came up to cup my face gently between his palms, and I was quite sure that I was now shaking like a leaf beneath his touch.
I couldn't help but to stare at his lips in anticipation. They were pink and perfectly sculpted. So lush and sweet that they really had no right being on a man. He had the kind of lips that needed to be kissed over and over again, until they were spit-slick and swollen. My heart started to ache strangely in my chest, and I was mystified yet again by my emotions. It seemed so peculiar to me that I would feel this way just as he was about to kiss me.
Then, glory hallelujah, his lips were on mine. Hot, demanding and rough, and it was so very far from the tender, sweet kiss we shared in the parking lot. He was all but devouring my lips, hungrily capturing them, nipping gently, like he was a damned soul and I was his only chance at salvation. He moved them so sensuously against mine that I unconsciously moaned, very loudly, into his mouth.
Castiel seized the opportunity and slipped his tongue past my lips to graze against mine in a tantalizing dance. I groaned into his mouth, tasting coffee and something distinctly Cass. His tongue massaged mine with confident and assured strokes, driving all thoughts from my head and forcing me to focus on him. Only him. Castiel. Fireworks burst behind my eyelids, my body shuddered in pleasure against him and I grasped at his shirt, desperate for something to help ground me as I started to float away.
Castiel groaned deeply, the noise mirroring a primal growl in the back of his throat. Somehow I recognized it. The feral thing screaming one word in a language older than time.
Mine.
He dropped his hands from my face only to grasp me roughly by my hips and pull me possessively up against his body, fitting us together like we were specifically made for one another. Expertly tailored to fit every edge, curve and dip of our bodies perfectly into one being. I could feel him against me, deliciously hot and rigid through his slacks as his hips rocked against mine in mild desperation. I would give anything in the world to know what Castiel was feeling. He was so unbelievably hard, grinding his erection against me with slow, hungry strokes.
We were in Heaven. We had to be. I couldn't think of any other possible explanation for the way lust seemed to be aggressively dominating and consuming every other feeling in my body, until all that was left was this dull ache in the apex of my thighs that demanded immediate satisfaction.
I have kissed a lot of men during my time. A lot. A few women as well, but this… this. With Castiel… it was so vastly different from anything I had ever experienced. It felt like my soul was vibrating in ecstasy right alongside my body, calling out for something unknown to me.
What was this Angel doing to me?
Castiel broke the kiss with a lewd sound and pulled back to look down at me. Dark lashes shrouded his electric blue eyes, giving him a dangerous, yet oh-so-sensual look that had me wringing my fingers in his shirt anxiously. It was all I could do to keep from tearing the oxford from his body. His hands held onto my hips firmly as he surveyed my face, both of us still struggling to catch our breath.
"Wow," I gasped finally, still trembling in his hardened grip. That was definitely something else. I had severely misjudged Castiel's ability to kiss by a long shot. That was, without a doubt, the best kiss I had ever experienced in my lifetime.
He smiled down at me gently and wetted his lips. And It was such a small thing, really. The very essence of the word innocent. Tongue flicking out briefly before disappearing back behind those perfectly heart shaped lips. I had never been so eager to rip a man's clothes off before. But this was Cass, and everything he did had such a profound effect on me that I couldn't help but to wonder if I would ever get over being so insanely attracted to him.
I was a woman possessed.
"I learned that from the pizza man," he sighed breathily, his smile slightly lopsided.
"Whatever that means," I said quickly, leaning up to meet his lips again. I wanted more of him, edging ever so close to being utterly frantic with need. I loved the way his lips felt against mine, so fucking soft and kiss-swollen it should have been illegal.
Everything inside of me was screaming out for his touch, frenzied with lust, like I had been starving my entire life and here I was in front of a buffet… all I had to do was reach out and take what I wanted.
He squeezed my hips forcefully and pulled me impossibly closer. I shifted my hips forward against his as I kissed him fervidly. Castiel abruptly moaned against my lips, the sound so delightfully shameless in my ears. That noise he made- God, I could live the rest of my life deaf and never forget how erotically satisfying he sounded.
He didn't bother to hold back at all, nobody ever having told him not to express what he was feeling. It sent potent waves of pure carnal desire straight to the apex of my hips and all I could think about was how absolutely perfect Castiel would feel buried to the hilt inside of me. I shifted my hips against his again, deliberately grinding against his cock, and was rewarded with another shameless, wanton moan.
Castiel's hips rocked against mine, instinctively searching for friction he so obviously needed. All of my nerve endings were aflame and I hopelessly needed to feel his bare skin against mine.
That's precisely when Dean decided to open the door to my room and proceed to wolf-whistle at us.
"Damn, guys, hot and heavy! It's all nice and steamy in here. I would have thought you two'd be done by now!" He laughed loudly at his own joke. "Yeah, Cass!"
I jerked my head in Dean's direction, only catching a brief glimpse of Castiel's irritated expression as I turned and glared at the intrusive blonde man. Dean watched me as he opened up a beer using his ring and took a long draw from the bottle.
"Really, Dean?!" I shouted. "You're getting to be a real pain in my ass, you know that?"
I reluctantly pulled away from Castiel and smoothed down my shirt. It had somehow ridden up as we were basically dry humping each other in the middle of the room. As hard as I tried to steady my breathing and quiet my erratic heart, I couldn't seem to stop thinking about just how heavily we had been kissing and grinding against one another. I was dizzy with lust and something else just beyond my conscious grasp. Everything seemed so foggy and disoriented now. Was this how it always was with angels? Completely ruled by animalistic urges that only made one thing a top priority; copulation. Just kiss, fuck and suck your way through the night and give fuck-all to everything else!
"Alright you two, cool it down. We've got something important to discuss. When I leave feel free to tear each others clothes off, but for right now we have something that needs taken care of."
Dean made his way over to my suitcase, pulled it open and started rummaging through my clothes and personal items. I abandoned my previous train of thought and immediately slipped into a intervention-level defense mode.
"What are you doing?" I asked angrily, stalking over to him and trying to shut the lid to the luggage. Dean grabbed my cast-free arm gently and gave me a stern look.
"I want to know where you keep your drugs. You promised us that you'd stop doing them and I'm here to make sure you keep your word. I don't doubt that you've got more in your car somewhere."
Oh, right. Fucking fantastic. This was going to be tougher than I had anticipated. My heart was still pounding in my chest and I needed to distract myself. I really needed a cold shower. I didn't want to be a sticky puddle of hormones and lust while trying to have a serious conversation with Dean.
I didn't know how to explain to him. I didn't think Dean would judge me, but I was quite simply terrified. Using had become a major part of my life and everything I did, usually in some part, revolved around my next high. I woke up every day and immediately did whatever I could to attain a head change. Would I be okay just being me? Sure, the withdrawal process was going to be excruciating, at best, but would I even know who I was without something making me feel happy when I really wasn't? I didn't know how I managed as long as I had before using for the first time. What did I do before I discovered drugs to make myself happy?
I honestly couldn't remember anymore.
Dean scowled at me. "Don't tell me you changed your mind. I'm not above tying your ass up on the bed and dumping everything myself. I'd hate to say this, but I'll rip apart your car if I have to."
I sighed in agitation. "Jesus, Dean! There's no sense in threatening my car! Come on! And, no. I haven't changed my mind." I paused to collect my thoughts so I could forge them into a cohesive sentence that would actually make some sense. "I'm just really fucking scared."
Now it was Dean's turn to look at me in total confusion.
"What are you scared of?" He paused, and then realization blossomed across his face. "Not me, Whitney... I didn't mean that as a literal threat, you know that. I would never hurt you." His voice grew soft and he placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.
"It's not that. I know you wouldn't-" I couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled up unexpectedly, remembering how Dean had stood up to Edward in my defense. Eddie looked terrified as he ran to his truck. However, my laughter was cut short as I tried to swallow down the unexpected lump rising in my throat. It threatened tears and yet another crying session. Anxiety erupted white-hot in my chest like a solar flare.
The horribly acute wave made me nauseated almost instantly. I glanced back at Castiel for reassurance. He was regarding Dean and myself thoughtfully, his hair standing on end in its usual gravity-defying way and his gorgeous blue eyes were so full of remorse that I had to tear myself from his gaze lest I start to cry.
An angel felt sorry for me. And fuck if that didn't make me feel guilty as all hell.
"Then what is it?" Dean prompted, his voice sounding like what neared impatience. "God knows I shouldn't be the one preaching to you about showing your emotions, but I do want to help you. As I said, you're family now." He rubbed the top of my head roughly with his palm, messing up my hair in the process. I swatted at his hand and flattened my hair back into place as best I could. "You're the little sister I never had. This is what big brothers are here for."
I gave him the best smile I could muster and took a deep breath in through my nose. Dean seemed to be genuinely worried about me, so I might as well just take the opportunity, while I still had it, and get everything off of my mind. Someone who actually cares about another person is too rare of a thing in this world, and yet here one was… willing to help me figure out my life and reassure me that everything will be alright.
"I'm scared that I won't know who I am without it. I've been doing this for most of my adult life, Dean. It's been the easiest way for me to deal with everything. Oh, I feel sad today? No matter. I'll just take a Percocet and feel better in less than thirty minutes. Is anxiety warping my reality in order to belittle and make me feel inadequate? Bah! I'll pop a couple Xanax and wash it down with some whiskey and soon I'll be floating on air." I paused, worried now that somehow confessing all these things out loud to Dean and Cass would make me look like a junkie not worth their effort and time. I'd be left alone once again.
Losing Dean and Sam… yeah, it would hurt like hell. They were sweet boys, caring and compassionate. Saviors of the world, really. And they cared about me. I was lucky. And then there was Castiel… the Angel of the Lord, my guardian angel. Deeply aggrieved by my pain and suffering. And when I thought about the Angel turning his back on me… it was more than I could bear.
The thought of losing Castiel was so horrifying to me that I instinctively went rigid in fear. Terror coursed down my spine like an evil torrent of dismay and I felt like I was drowning in my sorrow. I'd never felt anxiety this intensely before, and believe me, I have had more than my fair share of panic attacks. This was definitely far from anything remotely close to normal.
Should I even be feeling this way about a man that I had known for less than a week? Some dark, unknown part of me was clinging to Castiel with an iron grip and was refusing to let him go. It intrigued, confused and frightened me all at once. I felt like my soul was calling out to the Angel, begging to be fused together. The very thought of not having him by my side sliced through to my core and made me wish I were dead instead of suffering without him. It would completely shatter me on the inside.
Overwhelmed with this new imaginary sense of grief, I choked back a sob. I wouldn't be able to recover from losing inside of me needed Castiel, that much I was certain of. So I knew, deep down, that if I lost him… I would certainly die.
"Whitney?" Dean's voice shook me from my thoughts.
"Sorry." I said quickly, shaking my head. Willing the thoughts of despair out of my mind. "This is hard for me to talk about." I was shaking from my imaginary scenario.
Was it really my imagination though?
I'd like to think of myself as a very imaginative person, able to think about things as if it were truly real. But the emotions that swept over me as I thought about losing Castiel were so extreme and ferocious that I had to ask myself if it were something else that was prompting me to feel this way.
Nothing I ever thought about before had caused me to endure what I just had simply by thinking about it. It was so fuckingreal… Would I truly die if I lost Castiel? Is this just another fucked up way that my mental illness controlled my life? I wasn't entirely sure, and for a split second I wasn't sure of anything at all.
"Say I give all this up, Dean." I said flatly, staring at the wall, so I wouldn't have to look at his face. I didn't want to see the pity in his eyes. The phantom anguish that racked my body only moments before still had me sick to my stomach.
"What am I left with, huh? A broken girl who wasn't good enough for her husband? Or A lonely daughter whose parents and entire family are dead. I don't have any friends anymore. In a very real way… substance abuse has filled up the gaps inside of me. Made me whole again. Fucked up, maybe. But whole. Having a buzz is like being in love with the perfect person." I sighed and blinked back tears as they pricked my eyes.
"She's always available when you need her the most. Always supportive of you no matter what you're dealing with. Always more than willing to make you feel normal again. When you're at your lowest and feel like you're worthless... when you're suffering alone and you keep thinking that you couldn't possibly go on living another day… all you have to do is put that little needle in your vein, and within seconds she's there, embracing you in her arms and making everything all better. That's when I feel happy again. Truly. Fucking. Happy."
I looked at Dean then, making deliberate eye contact. His mouth was slightly ajar, emerald green eyes wide and watering, eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. A perfect mix of disbelief and pain painted across his handsome features.
"This is the hardest thing I've ever done, Dean. I want to give up on using. I really, desperately do… but I'm terrified of who I am deep down without the comfort of my pills and alcohol or whatever else that makes up the security blanket I cuddle up with when shit gets too real for me to handle. Can you honestly say that you've felt this way about anything? Can you connect with me… actually understand what it's like for me to go through something like this?"
Dean swallowed and then cleared his throat, a single tear betrayed his normally stoic personality, rolling freely down his face before he caught it and wiped it away with his hand.
"I-I can't. I didn't realize…" He paused and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. "You're so much stronger than I gave you credit for, Whitney." He murmured quietly, gaze now fixated on the floor at his feet. "I feel like a complete jackass for how I've gone about this. I want to help. Tell me how I can help."
Only then did I realize that I had been holding my breath. I forced myself to relax, taking a much needed breath of relief. This day was just getting to be too much for me already. Broken wrist. Asshole ex-husband starting shit with my friends. Castiel beating Edward's ass was definitely a bonus though... and the way he kissed me… how it felt to be moulded to his body like a fitted glove... it was beyond any description.
What worried me most of all were these strange feelings manifesting inside of me. Forcing me to feel things that weren't real, in high definition surround sound. I had never before felt anything quite so compelling in response to my mind asking a hypothetical question. It had me unnerved and on edge.
I had to bring this up to Castiel at some point. Maybe it had something to do with my Grace. I was half Angel after all, so something this bizarre wasn't entirely impossible… right?
On top of everything that happened today, good and bad, I was now giving up the only thing that had always been there for me when nobody else was. I didn't want to let go. Not yet. I needed to get high, and now. The urge to use, to shoot a syringe full of Meth into my vein and ride the high for as long as I possibly could before blacking out, was so insistent and demanding that I couldn't stop myself from reaching for the small black pouch in my suitcase.
I held it against my chest, sort of cradling it as if it were the most important thing in the world. This was the end of a large section of my life
A part of my personality, and I was grieving for the me that I had known for the past five years.
This was for the best, though. The Whitney who was strung out, struggling with depression and anxiety, using any and every drug she could get her hands on... She was going to die today. I was going to bury her. In doing so, I would force her anger and self loathing into oblivion where they would hopefully transform themselves into the blissful peace and serenity that she rightly deserved.
Right after I got high for the last time.
