In black and white

“Starting a new chapter…” at least that’s what he thought. It had been almost eight years of non-stop distractions. Roman didn’t want to admit it, but he’d spent most of his twenties constantly staring down at his phone, looking at the clock and pacing back and forth. He’d barely seen the days fly by and here he was, turning thirty in a few days. He couldn’t see a clear path to sorting out his life and the sun had long since set on his tattered shoes. He realized the line between having things under control and completely losing it got blurry and yet he couldn’t seem to make it stop.

On his last day before his thirtieth, he was walking up and down the stairs of his apartment when he noticed a little black book, left behind on the kitchen table, presumably by his old roommate. He hadn’t seen his old roommate since he stopped paying rent a couple months ago and left all his items behind. He’d only lived in that apartment for a couple months now and saw people coming and going regularly. Roman was waiting for the phone to ring, unable to shake the feeling of centipedes crawling under his skin, grossed out by his own scabs. Roman became dizzy circling around and decided to sit down, he picked up the book and the pen and started doodling, and the doodling transitioned to brainstorming. He couldn’t recall the last time he held a pen instead of a lighter.

Roman was feeling rejected. He started scribbling words in the abandoned notebook, anything that popped into his head; the white picket fence, the perfect partner, a happy marriage, just happiness would do really. The thoughts poured out: having many kids, saving for a trip to Paris, getting a college degree in architecture, a brand-new car, a gigantic house with a view of the ocean, a job, any job, he hadn’t worked in months. He wrote faster—owning his own dog, paying his grandmother’s bills, creating a good circle of friends, preparing a dinner with family members he hadn’t seen in a while, making some serious money--the list went on and on.

Roman started envisioning himself walking down the street one day and stumbling on twenty thousand dollars in cash. He pictured himself walking into the car dealership, where he could finally get that green Jeep he’d been dreaming of. He could use that money to buy his imaginary wife and kids some gifts and toys. He got embarrassed by his own thoughts and crumpled the paper up immediately afterwards. Tossing it out in the trash wasn’t enough to ensure no one would ever stumble unto it and someone could mock him. He opened the stove top to send his thoughts to ashes, feverishly penning when he heard the phone ring. And just like that, there he was again spending his last dime on a quick fix. He’d do anything to make the itching go away, on his birthday nonetheless. There he went out the door going to get himself something to ease the pain. He smiled thinking he’d actually stumble unto twenty thousand dollars on his way to his dealers, but Roman only found what he set out for. Sabotaging as second nature.

We could have sketched out his life in one hundred and three different ways, however no one could have predicted how his story really unfolded. We could have rewritten, scribbled and drafted it a million times and nothing could have prepared anyone for what occurred. In a world where everything is written down in black and white, good people do bad things when substances take over their bodies. Roman, pressed it down, gathered it up, turned it over, lined it up and repeated the cycle all over again. What happened to him on his last day is as follows: he never found twenty thousand dollars, instead his future flashed before his eyes and Roman was once more turning his future to ashes and left in the dark for the last time.

Heroin. It’s a word and a death sentence for many. If you or a loved one are suffering from addiction, please reach out for help. We are currently experiencing an epidemic and it is important to shed light and inspire people to reach out for help in these difficult times. Roman could have gotten clean and sober, unfortunately he didn’t get a chance.