Infinite Repeat

I knew that I was too much for Stephen. He couldn't handle me, being me. Okay, so I wasn't exactly just me, I was a meth induced me. But I was still me, right? Okay, so I wasn't still me. I was someone else, someone who was being taken over by the monster that is methamphetamine. It was a bad thing, but I loved it.

Everyone was getting annoyed.

It only took them a week to find out about my bad habit. The band they toured with had instantly become friends of mine. They were cranksters and I was, too, so we fit. They, however, didn't seem to get the memo that it was a secret and they straight up asked me in front of everyone if I wanted to toke with them. Being the idiot that I am, I said yes - completely forgetting that the entire band was behind me.

According to Jess, Stephen was hanging on his last string. He was livid at how I was getting, but he didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to handle me or get through to me.

I didn't blame him. I wasn't exactly making life easier for anyone. I was always high or crashed. I was helpless and I didn't want to be helped. In all honesty, I wanted everyone to leave me the fuck alone.

So that was how I ended up sitting on the curb with Stephen. He was looking at me with the permanent look he'd held in his eyes the past week while being with me. It was disappointment and amazement. It wasn't the good amazement, though. It was the 'I'm so amazed that she's actually doing this', in a bad way of course, kind.

But I was sober right then. Stephen had asked two days ago for us to talk when I was sober. So I stayed away from the meth and as soon as I woke up from my crash, I found him.

"Baby, you know I love you," he murmured, his fingers laced through mine. I had just noticed how thin my fingers were getting. "Even though I know that I should, I don't want to involve your parents with this. I want you to try rehab, but I know you won't. Would you?" he asked, looking up at me.

I shook my head. "I'm fine, Stephen, it's not like it's out-"

"Out of control?" he interrupted. I nodded. "Baby, you are. I haven't seen you eat once and you only sleep when you crash. This isn't healthy for you. You're so thin, baby. Everyone sees it. I want to try and help you, and I'm doing the best I can, but I can't. I failed." He looked down at the concrete.

Just as I was about to reply, a few teenage girls walked up, addressing Stephen. He wiped at his face and released my hand while standing up. A faux smile was forced on his face as he spoke with the girls and laughed with them while taking pictures. He didn't want to be there and I could see that.

But when I thought back to what he said, my heart broke. He tried to help me and I pushed him away. He was my boyfriend, he loved me, and he felt like he failed me. I put my head on my arm and rested that on my knees. I didn't want to lose Stephen, but I was.

"Is she okay?" I heard one of the girls ask. "She's your girlfriend, right? What's her name?"

"That's Addison. Yeah, she's my girlfriend." The way he said it sounded different. He used to be prideful of me. He's was disappointed in me now and I could hear it in his voice. I hope the girls didn't. "And yeah, she's fine. She's just really tired. It's hard to sleep in a van," he joked.

Ten minutes later, the girls were gone. Stephen sat back down next to me and I turned to fall into his arms. "I'm so sorry," I sobbed. "I love you, Stephen, I'm so sorry."

He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. "Baby, it's okay. It's okay, baby. I just want you to get better. Please try, for me."

"It's so hard, Stephen. I can't do it alone."

A shaky breath fell from his lips. "I wish I could be the one to help you. But I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't. John will be here just after we go on stage to pick you up. You have to leave right away."

"John?" I asked, astonished. "Stephen, no. I want to be with you."

"It's only until we get off tour. It's only a month. Please, Addison, just do this for me."

*

And that was how I found myself on a four hour plane ride with John, crossing half the country. He was angry with me, I knew that. I had promised to keep myself in check and I didn't. I got out of hand because I couldn't control myself. My life had lost control and it was all my fault. Sure, I could blame it on Trey, blame it on the shit he offered. But it was my fault, my own fault.

He didn't talk to me for the whole plane ride. We were silent, but his fingers were laced through mine. I felt bad, guilty, too, kind of. I had just gotten done having a huge emotional conversation with Stephen about how we love each other, and then I was there, holding hands with John on a plane.

It wasn't until we were in the cab going back to the venue that he spoke to me.

"Addy, I can't lose you. And if you keep doing this... I will."

And maybe it was the fact that I was still slightly buzzed, but I couldn't help myself from bursting into tears. "I'm so sorry, John, I love you. I'm so sorry." The same words I'd spoken to Stephen, however they meant completely different things.

He wrapped me in his arms, pulling me close to him. "I love you, Addison. I forgive you, but I'm not letting you out of my sight for a long time."

*

No one told me the withdrawl symptoms. I didn't know I'd be shaking fiercely, crying uncontrollably, eating like no other, and randomly falling into depression. No one told me that I'd be freaking out and crying. I was begging to see Stephen, to talk to him, sometimes. Other times, I was begging for John and refusing to let him go.

It happened while he was on stage on the third day I'd gone without it. I was crying and nearly screaming for John as Tim held me. I felt terrible because finally, after half an hour of them being on stage and of me freaking out, Tim had to get John. For ten minutes while John was with me, Tim entertained the crowd, who seemed to know him very well.

"I'm sorry," I cried, shivering like crazy as I clung to John with tears streaming down my face.

He shook his head, kissing my forehead. "It's fine, Addy, baby, it's fine. Will you be okay while I finish the show?" I nodded and soon, John was replaced by Tim sitting next to me. "Sorry about that, guys. My mom called," he lied, making everyone fall even more in love with him by thinking he loved his mom that much.

That wasn't the only time it happened, either. For four days straight, I sobbed and sobbed for John. My body craved John nearly as much as it craved the drug that was causing this. I hated shaking. I hated crying. I hated eating so much. I hated sleeping so much. I hated needing someone so much. I was weak. I hated being weak. But I was. And it was all because of the goddamn drug that my body wanted.

"You're gonna get through this, baby," Stephen told me each time I craved him. I hated that I couldn't see him, but the phone was the best I could do. When I did need him, he would listen to me cry and plead for him. He told me that it broke his heart, but I couldn't do anything about it. "I love you, I love you," he repeated to me through my sobs. I'd repeat it back to him, over and over and over again.

It was all too much for me. My heart wouldn't quit racing and I could always hear it. I could feel my brain throbbing.

The good thing, though, was that I could finally see my body for what it was becoming. My cheeks were hallowed and I could count each of my ribs. I had chicken legs and my arms were only bone. I was too thin and when John made me go to the doctor, I found out that I was one step away from being hospitalized for malnutrition. I was prescribed Megace, which was usually given to the elderly who had loss of appetite or severe malnutrition, but the doctor said it would be okay for me to take.

Of course, John made sure that I kept up with the doses and that he kept the medication.

I knew it would take time for me to get better, but I also knew that with John, I could do it.