Love, Drugs, and Other Illusions

“He was different from all the others. So intense, so present. It made me sceptical in the beginning, almost intimidated. But he saw me, made me embrace what others found weird about me. His presence became a space to express everything I was holding back, a space to burst out of my insecurities. He let me be his centre of attention, and I slowly made him mine. But he had a past. The first night I met him he told me all about it. His life, his troubles. It was very dark, but I didn't realize what it all meant back then.

I moved to his city to be close to him. He introduced me to his world - parties, art, drugs and strange people. I loved it. I was convinced that I had found myself, that he had brought me the life I was longing for. After a month, things started to change. He got heavy, darker. His troubles turned into mine. He would criticize me for not saying the right things, for not helping him. For not being enough. I started doing all in my power to keep him up. To keep our world beautiful. I even quit doing things I loved out of fear that he would kill the joy of it. No more dance lessons, no more checkered pants. He had lost control of his mind, so he depended on controlling mine.

For months, he was the air that I breathed. My ups and my downs, it all depended on him. One day during fall he woke up more lifted than usual and invited me to come with him to the library. We both love literature. He showed me one of his favourite writers, handed me one of his works. I immediately fell in love with it, it was such a beautiful book. But he wouldn't allow me to read it. "I don't want you to feel confused. It is too advanced for you, you won't understand." Those undervaluing and devastating words made me realize the person he really was. The most selfish person I knew. That day became my liberation. I cut him out of my life. I'm not afraid anymore. Now, I'm creating my own world."

- Anonymous