Tonight I was feeling both hungry and social, so I headed to Quiet Storm. In short order I was joined at my table by We Can't All Be and Michael the Hat Man, and, later, by Matthu. Matthu read We Can't All Be and I a story he'd been working on, about apricots and magic. It was a delight, and made me wonder when the last time that someone read to me was.
The Nature of Addiction:
Unfortunately, not only is We Can't All Be drinking again, but he was also fresh from jail. Apparently he got so drunk that he went to his old apartment (where he hasn't lived for three years) and was arrested while kicking down the door, demanding to be let inside. As he drank more and more, the length of his time in jail went from being "two days" to "a week." It made me feel sad, and it made me wonder about H.W.S.R.N., and if he'd made any trips to the hoosegow recently.
I told We Can't All Be that I'd been rereading my junkie journals, and that I'd been pondering the question "What did I need someone to sit down and tell me?" Obviously, I wish someone could have somehow explained that by leaving Chicago, I'd be leaving all of the good parts of my life, as well as the bad, but that has little bearing on We Can't All Be and his current situation.
I didn't know what to say, so I made it clear that I really wanted to say something. And he drank more and more, and I sat there contemplating the feeling of helplessness that has become so familiar to me as I watch the people I love drink and drug themselves to death.