Who I Used to Be

by Alexa Land

  TJ met me halfway, and I started crying with relief as I threw myself into his arms. He held me tightly and I whispered, “Thank you for coming. Oh God, thank you so much.”

  He rubbed my back as he held me, and his voice was gentle when he said, “It’s going to be okay now, Zachary. Come on, let’s get you someplace safe.”

  I let him lead me to the little gray and white car. My hands were shaking so hard that it took a couple tries to fasten my seatbelt. After he got behind the wheel and started the engine, I hugged his arm and put my head on his shoulder. He felt so good, solid and warm and comforting.

  As he drove us back across town, the words tumbled out of me. “I can’t keep doing drugs,” I told him. “I’m going to disappear. Even if the heroin doesn’t kill me, I’ll still cease to exist. Maybe that already happened. Maybe all that’s left of me is just a junkie. But if there’s anything left to save, will you help me? I can’t do this alone. It’s gotten out of control so fast. At this rate, I’ll be dead or gone in a matter of days.”

  “Of course I’ll help you. I’m so glad you called.”

  “I know I’m rambling and probably barely making sense, but I needed to tell you all of that right away, while I’m still willing to ask for help. I’m already feeling the first symptoms of withdrawal, and I know it’ll get much worse. I’m going to want to shoot up again, and I don’t know if I can fight it. What if I’m not strong enough?”

  “You are. The next several days are going to be tough, but you can absolutely get through it, and there are two ways I can help you. Option one is this: I can drive you to an excellent rehab facility with trained professionals, and they can help you detox. They’ll administer medication that’ll lessen the symptoms of withdrawal. I’ll pay for it, so you don’t need to worry about anything but getting better.”

  I sat up and stared at him as I shook my head. “No. I won’t go someplace with a bunch of strangers. I can’t. Don’t drop me off at some facility! Please, TJ.”

  “If you don’t want that, the other alternative is to take you home with me so you can detox there. It’s not as good as rehab for a number of reasons, but I’ll be there to help in any way I can.”

  “Would you really be willing to do that?”

  “Of course.”

  I returned my head to his shoulder and said, “I need to be with you. I’m going to need you to be my strength when mine runs out.”

  “Are you sure you’re going to be comfortable in my apartment? You barely know me.”

  “I know you in all the ways that count. Right from the start, I felt like I could trust you. It’s so rare for me to trust anyone, but I feel safe with you, TJ. Please let me stay with you.”

  “If that’s what you want, then absolutely.” I murmured a thank you and clutched his arm a little more securely.

  When we reached his apartment, I followed TJ to the bedroom as he said, “Meet me in the kitchen after you take a shower. You should try to eat something before the withdrawal symptoms get bad, I bet you haven’t eaten in days.” He handed me some clean clothes from his closet and draped a towel over the aquarium as he added, “I’ll give you some privacy while you get cleaned up. This fish tank is a window to the other room, that’s why I’m blocking it off.” He left me alone in the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

  I put the clean T-shirt and sweats on the bed, then stripped off my filthy clothes. I’d been wearing the same thing since the previous Friday, when I visited TJ at the shop and made the wind-up toy. That felt like a lifetime ago.

  Something small and metallic caught my eye, and I turned to see what it was. When I realized TJ had put the tiny cat I’d made on his bedside table, I was overcome with emotion. With a couple twists of its collar, it walked stiffly across the top of a stack of books.

  I picked up my jeans and searched the pockets. The baggie of heroin I found got flushed down the toilet. Finally, I located the little turtle. His feet and head were all bent up, which broke my heart. I carried it with me to the bathroom and rested it on the edge of the sink.

  After I showered thoroughly, I got dressed in TJ’s clothes and took the turtle with me to the kitchen. I felt like I was going to cry as I held it up to show him and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to mess it up. Can you fix it?”

  “Of course.” He put it in the pocket of the hoodie he wore over a T-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants.

  I closed the gap between us and hugged him as I whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt it. I love it so much. I really am sorry.”

  He wrapped his arms around me as he said, “There’s no need to apologize.”

  “I don’t want to let go of you,” I whispered after a few moments.

  “You don’t have to.” He led me to the dining table just outside the kitchen, sat down and pulled me onto his lap.

  “I’m being clingy and stupid,” I said as I buried my face in his shoulder and made no move to get up.

  TJ held me securely. “You’re asking for what you need. If this gives you comfort, then I’m all for it.”

  “I need stronger words besides thank you. They’re just not enough. You’re so kind to me, and I can’t even tell you how grateful I am.”

  “I’m glad you’re letting me help. I’ve been so worried about you, Zachary. I kept hoping you’d call.”

  “My housemates and some friends tried to stage an intervention tonight,” I said quietly. “There was so much worry in their eyes, but instead of being grateful that they cared about me and wanted to help, I felt completely humiliated and ran away. There was just no way I could face it, not when I was that exhausted and strung out, and not right on the heels of what happened to my friend Gabriel.”

  I told him about finding my friend unconscious and how scared I’d been when I thought he didn’t have a pulse, and TJ asked, “Is that what finally made you want to get help?”

  “That was a big part of it. I knew sooner rather than later, that would be me. But there are other reasons, too.” I kept my face tucked into the curve of his neck, so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact as I told him, “I’d spent every cent I had and blew off my job all week, and I was so desperate for another hit this afternoon that I went back to prostitution. I passed out in a public restroom, I didn’t even know where I was when I came to. Then I realized some guy had paid me for sex and was waiting for me, and I could have backed out, but instead…I went through with it, TJ. I sold myself for one more hit. And I felt so resigned to it, like I always knew I’d end up right back there. I remember thinking that was all I was good for. I hate myself for that, for all of it.”

  “God, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “It was like you said, I had to hit rock bottom. It took so much to get there, between watching Gabriel OD, and the looks on my friends’ faces at that intervention, and everything else that happened today and this week. I felt like I was about to disappear, like if I didn’t get help right now, today, there would be nothing left to save.”

  “Asking for help is huge. I’m so proud of you for taking that step.”

  I sat up a bit and finally met his gaze. “Don’t be. I might completely fail. Every part of me is screaming for my next dose, and this is just the start of it. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to get through days and days of withdrawal without giving in.”

  “You’re strong enough, I promise. And remember, you’re not doing this alone. I’ll be right here. I’m also going to bring in a friend of mine who’s an addiction counselor after you get through this initial detox. I can call your friends and ask them to help, too, if you’d like.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll send Chance a message tonight and let him know where I am, but I don’t want to see him until this is over. I’ve already brought so much worry and drama into his life. That was the thanks he got for letting me live with him and his family.”

  “Up to you.”

  I hesitated before asking, “Are you sure you want me here? This is going to di
srupt your entire life, and you barely know me. I was scared of going to rehab, but this is asking so much of you. Too much.”

  “Don’t give that another thought. I’m so glad to help you. I’ve been right where you are, remember? Except when I went through withdrawal, it was in a jail cell. I get to give you what I never had, the chance to get clean in a safe, secure environment. And I’m doing that because I care about you, Zachary.”

  “You’re so kind.” I reached up and touched TJ’s face without realizing what I was doing, then felt self-conscious and got to my feet.

  He stood up too and said, “I’m going to make you some food. Your stomach’s probably in knots, but please try to eat.”

  Even though I was starving, it was hard to eat when I felt so ill. I managed one triangle of toast and a few bites of the scrambled egg he made for me before my stomach cramped and I had to stop. I got up from the table and thanked him as I put my plate in the sink.

  He led me to the bedroom and pulled his soft, clean comforter over me after I curled up on the mattress. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch,” I said as I looked up at him.

  “This is where you need to be. I’m going to leave the door open a few inches so I can hear you if you call for me. I hope you get some rest.”

  “I wish I had the words to tell you how grateful I am. Saying thank you isn’t enough.”

  TJ brushed my hair from my eyes and said, “Sure it is. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

  My eyes started to slide shut, but I said, “I can’t fall asleep yet. What did I do with my phone?”

  He pulled a phone from his pocket and said, “I’ll text Chance and let him know where you are. What’s the number?”

  After I recited it and he typed it into his phone, I said, “Could you also call the hospital and check on Gabriel Moriarty? He’s at County. The doctor said he was stable before I left, but I want to make sure he’s still okay.”

  TJ promised he would, then said, “Good night, Zachary. I’m so glad you’re here.” So was I.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next week was hell. There was no other word for it. I’d gotten a taste of withdrawal before, for a few hours or even a couple days, but this was another thing entirely.

  Day after day blurred together into a cycle of agony I thought would never end. What stood out was throwing up more than I ever thought possible and sweating so much that I kept soaking my pajamas and the bedding. I rarely slept, and when I did, I had horrible nightmares and would wake up screaming.

  Every part of me hurt. It felt like having the worst flu imaginable. I thought I was dying. I wished I was, because dying would make the pain stop.

  Throughout it all, TJ kept a constant vigil. He helped me to the bathroom, and cleaned me up, and put fresh linens on the bed. He was endlessly patient, even when I turned into a monster and swore at him and tried to fight him so I could run away and use again. That was complete insanity. I could barely walk ten feet in my weakened condition. If I’d somehow made it as far as the stairs, I would have tumbled down and broken my neck.

  Finally, I awoke one afternoon and realized I’d not only gotten some rest, but my body aches had eased off a bit. While that was an unbelievable relief, I was far from okay. Depression weighed me down, and I still wanted to shoot up desperately. Was that ever going to go away?

  I pushed the covers aside and swung my legs out of bed, then paused for a moment to gather my strength. As I sat there, I noticed TJ had fixed the little turtle and put him beside the wind-up cat. It had new feet and a new head with tiny dots for eyes and a cute smile. I was so relieved that I hadn’t ruined it.

  Eventually, I got to my feet and shuffled to the bathroom. After using the facilities, I washed my hands and brushed my teeth. TJ had left a few toiletries for me in a little basket, and when I finished with the toothbrush, I ran a comb through my hair. While I did all of that, I made a point of avoiding the mirror, because I knew what I saw would be pretty bad.

  Next, I headed to the bedroom door, which was open a few inches, and stuck my head out. TJ was asleep on the couch with a book on his chest and the cat on his lap. When the cat saw me, he jumped up and disappeared under the couch. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan.

  TJ had to be exhausted after the hell I’d put him through, so I was careful not to wake him. I crossed the room and sat on the floor beside him, then rested my head on the couch and shut my eyes. Just as I started to dose off, TJ stirred, then sat up quickly and mumbled, “Hey. You okay?”

  I looked up at him and nodded. When he lightly brushed the hair out of my eyes, I leaned into his touch and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For being so horrible over the last few days. I hate myself for swearing at you and fighting with you and being such an asshole, when you were just trying to help me.”

  “You were going through withdrawal. Please don’t give it a second thought.”

  “But you didn’t deserve that.”

  “And you don’t deserve to feel guilty.” He swung his feet onto the floor and asked, “Do you want to try eating something?”

  “I’m afraid to. I just can’t throw up again. That was so horrible.”

  He stood up and held his hand out to me, and as he pulled me to my feet, he said, “How about a little tea and toast? That’s nice and mild.”

  Instead of answering, I put my arms around him and just held on. “I feel like crying and I don’t know why,” I told him.

  He wrapped his arms around me and rested his cheek against the side of my head. “It’s very common to go into depression after detox. Now that you seem to be through the physical side of it, I’m going to ask my counselor friend to come over. Murphy’s a great guy and can help you through this.”

  “I don’t want to talk to a stranger.”

  “He won’t be a stranger for long. As soon as you meet him, you’ll see there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “How’s Gabriel doing, speaking of worry?”

  “He’s out of the hospital. They kept him in for five days while he recovered and detoxed. I’ve been checking in with his roommate once a day. Even though it sounds like Gabriel’s doing well, his mom is threatening to pack him up and take him back to Martinsville with her.” He kept an arm around me as he guided me to the table and said, “Now come on, let’s get a little food in you.”

  I watched him as he moved around the kitchen, and after a while I asked, “By when do you want me out of here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m through the worst of it, and I’m sure you want your bed and your apartment back.”

  “All I care about is getting you back on your feet, and there’s still a lot of work to do, so plan on staying here as long as you want. If that’s a month, great. If it’s a year, also great. I even had your housemate bring some of your things so you’d be more comfortable.”

  “Chance was here?”

  “Actually, all four of your housemates showed up when you were asleep one afternoon. I told them you weren’t up for visitors yet, but I can invite them to come back whenever you’d like,” he said.

  “Let’s hold off on that one. I was such a wreck last time they saw me, and I want to be able to show them I’m okay. I can’t do that yet.”

  “Sure. I also told your boyfriend you weren’t up for visitors when he came by a couple days ago. I guess Chance let him know you were here.”

  “What boyfriend?”

  “Alastair? Tall, handsome British guy?”

  “Oh. He’s not my boyfriend. We just had one date, that day he picked me up at your shop. It went horribly.”

  “He seemed very concerned about you.”

  “Alastair came to the house for a do-over date when my friends were attempting that intervention. He probably just wanted to check and make sure I wasn’t dead.”

  “I think he really likes you.”

  “I would have assumed seeing me strung out, filthy, and on t
he verge of a complete breakdown would have cured him of that once and for all.”

  TJ put a plate with scrambled eggs and four triangles of buttered toast in front of me and said, “Not if he cares about you.”

  I looked up at him and blurted, “Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? I saw a gay romance in with your books, but I shouldn’t assume that says anything about your sexual orientation.”

  He colored slightly and didn’t look at me as he said, “It would be a boyfriend if I had anyone, but no, I don’t.”

  “Good.” I thought about that and hastily amended, “No! I don’t mean good. I just mean I’d feel bad if taking care of me was keeping you from someone. Plus, maybe they’d be mad about a strange guy sleeping in your bed and hanging all over you.”

  He grinned a little and said, “I’d hope my nonexistent boyfriend would be more understanding than that.”

  I picked apart the toast triangles one by one as he poured us some tea, and when he put two steaming mugs on the table and sat down beside me, I said, “Thank you for letting me do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Hugging you and holding on to you. I know you must find it weird, but you let me do it anyway. That’s so nice of you.”

  “Why would I find it weird?”

  “You just strike me as a pretty private guy, and here I am, violating your personal space every chance I get.”

  “If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t encourage it.” He took a sip of tea before saying lightly, “Actually, I enjoy the physical contact. Chaplin’s a lousy cuddler.”

  “Is that the cat?” When TJ nodded, I said, “He hates me.”

  “No he doesn’t. He’s just not used to people. You can probably tell I’m a pretty solitary person.” He waved his hand when he said that, possibly indicating the stacks of books on the table, or just the quiet apartment in general.