For A While
Prologue: Alice
I was never one to accept the things I could not change. Four times a week I went to group and each time I heard the addicts lament, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.” I’d never believed in God, He wasn’t a being that existed in my world. I had no mighty power above me, no creator, nothing to pray to at night, nothing to tell me what’s right and what’s wrong. I had no choice but to search inside of myself and find some source of hidden strength, something untapped and pure that I could somehow rely on, something crystal white that hadn’t been swiped away by the rush in my head, the pain in my heart, or the fire in my veins. And no matter how hard I tried to change the fact, I was stubborn. I was not one to accept the things I could not change.
When I felt myself falling away from her, one heart splitting into two swollen lumps of diathesis, I tried to meld back into her some how, become a part of her again and love her like I used to - like I needed to - I couldn’t. I fell flat and she knew it before I did. I could see it tugging at her eyes as forks scraped across virgin white plates while we were both desperate to break down the barrier. I could hear it in her voice as she asked me crisp predisposed questions about my day or my mum. And I could feel it in her body when I reached out in the wide stretch of space between us, fingers ghosting over the small of her back, unreachable. And the only thing it left me with was fear of myself, of my sick mind and how it could be capable of such a crime as falling out of love with some one.
And no, I could not change the fact that my best friend and my colleague was ripped from me in my selfish deprecation, stole away while she could to escape the undertow. She became happier and healthier and I sunk to new lows and I didn’t even care because “hi, my name is Alice and I am an addict” and all I needed was the rush in my head and the fire in my veins.
When I felt myself falling away from her, one heart splitting into two swollen lumps of diathesis, I tried to meld back into her some how, become a part of her again and love her like I used to - like I needed to - I couldn’t. I fell flat and she knew it before I did. I could see it tugging at her eyes as forks scraped across virgin white plates while we were both desperate to break down the barrier. I could hear it in her voice as she asked me crisp predisposed questions about my day or my mum. And I could feel it in her body when I reached out in the wide stretch of space between us, fingers ghosting over the small of her back, unreachable. And the only thing it left me with was fear of myself, of my sick mind and how it could be capable of such a crime as falling out of love with some one.
And no, I could not change the fact that my best friend and my colleague was ripped from me in my selfish deprecation, stole away while she could to escape the undertow. She became happier and healthier and I sunk to new lows and I didn’t even care because “hi, my name is Alice and I am an addict” and all I needed was the rush in my head and the fire in my veins.
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For the first time since I was about ten, I wrote this with a pen and some paper. I still have the original draft with illegible handwriting and notes in coloured ink. Along with this prologue, I have about another seven thousand words of this story on paper. I have such a habit of never planning chaptered stories and then it comes out as this one big terrible mess without an ending, or really, a middle. I planned this. I gave a lot of thought to this. I actually changed courses a couple of times in my thought process. I am still in the process of writing, of course. But I've got character maps and timelines and everything all on hand. I feel like an actual writer!I read this and I still fear it is not as good as it could be, but then I think it's a prologue and I'm really being too hard on myself. Maybe. Anyway, I digress. Thank you for reading my prologue and my little note that was probably much longer than the actual content.