That Heroin Boyfriend

You get a bunch of women together, and pretty soon we start comparing notes on life. We have a breathtaking willingness to share even our most painful or embarrassing anecdotes. In fact, the worse the story, the better it feels to tell it. 

As a lapsed Catholic and veteran of years of therapy, I'm always fascinated by the cathartic power of admitting the worst and watching it drift away, powerless to hurt you any more.

Even though shitty situations are like assholes (we all have one) and snowflakes (different every time), I noticed one surprisingly common flavor of experience: That Heroin Boyfriend.

It seems like everyone has one! And by everyone, I mean wicked smart, educated, gorgeous, young women who are clearly hot prizes on the market. As fetching as they are, these women always seem to pick the (admittedly frequently stealth) junkie over the squeaky clean captain of the swim team (granted, he's a different, totally gay problem, and a separate post: That Gay Boyfriend.)

My personal Heroin Boyfriend drama level was relatively low. The whole memory has a greasy, sort of 70's glamor to it, like an old TV show I watched late at night, half asleep. While drunk. Which is mortifyingly accurate.

"Robert" was older, sort of dark and euro-trashy. He smoked and drank a lot, and at the time so did I. In hindsight, I'm sure he was also doing coke in bathrooms (certainly with other women, probably off their cokewhore-asses) which was likely the source of his manic, appealing energy.

We dated a few times, stayed out late at clubs in bad neighborhoods, then sloshed our way back to Robert's tiny apartment crowded with black leather couches and glass top tables. (See? Total cokehead furniture, right?! God, I was so young and stupid.)

I knew he "had" a heroin/drug problem, but the emphasis was firmly on the past, and really I was too self-involved at the time to notice the patterns. It ended the morning that Robert crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom to smoke some heroin.

Totally horrified, as only suburban-raised girl veal can be, I scrambled into my clothes and rushed out of there, chain smoking all the way home, at 5 a.m. in the back of a cab.

My self-involvement probably saved me from getting in deeper, because I didn't have the time or interest to get sucked into the vortex of Robert's junkie drama. I stopped taking his calls. He left long, emotional bait-filled voicemails, which I never returned. We both moved on. I was lucky.

A former roommate was less lucky. "Elaine" was engaged to her Heroin Boyfriend, "Tim." Life was a constant up and down of Tim getting clean, and then falling off the wagon.

On one trip back East to see family, Tim ran over a mailbox while high. That's a Federal offense. Another time I came home from work and found Elaine waiting for me, sobbing, at the bus stop, positive that he OD'd.  We rushed over to Tim's house to find him zonked out, rain coming in and music blasting out of open living room windows, but otherwise fine.

She went in and closed the security door behind her. "He needs me," she said through the metal bars. Reluctantly I drove away from Elaine's self-imposed prison, only to pick her up the next day to go try on wedding dresses.

Elaine and I did this dance more than once. Eventually she broke up with Tim and married an incredibly sweet man. They have a little boy now, and hopefully he will never try heroin. But who knows?

I bet you have at least one Heroin Boyfriend story of your own. I really hope you'll consider sharing in the comments, especially if you made it work. I've heard a lot of these stories, but hardly any with that kind of happy ending.

Usually we moderate comments, but for this post we decided to open it up. You can even be anonymous, although be warned: I will silence and oppress assholes so fast you will need heroin for the whiplash. Play nice.

*PS, of course the names are totally fake, but yes, these are true stories.

Comments

[Stefania/CityMama]

I totally have a That Gay Boyfriend story. Probably two.

[colleen]

oh yes. and we broke up because i asked him to take the trash out and he had to take a walk around the block to let off some steam.

either the bipolar or the heroin: take your pick.

[Kristen]

I'm such a preppy little goody goody. I had a That Dumbass Boyfriend, who was generally a good guy, star of the basketball team, not terribly cute but hey, who am I to judge? Only he was SOOOO stupid. So, seriously, I spent HOW much time on a guy who wasn't hot or smart? I eventually moved on to a boy who was wicked hot and spoke Latin. Then I moved on to ... other cute, smart boys.

That's as bad as my story gets -- sorry to disappoint.

[Jody Reale--Kill Your Lunch Hour]

Thank god I'm not alone. It really IS raining men most of the time, but during my 20s it just so happened to be acid rain. I'm glad THAT's over.

[Skye]

His name was Justin, and if I ever saw him again, I'm sure I would fall back under his evil spell. He was seriously like an addictive drug.

It would never have worked. I had a coworker who tried to convince me it would work if I just stalked him enough. Seriously.

[williwonti]

i am now waiting for my boyfriend to return with my car from his dealers house. This happens every night.. we go out to our "normal" friends places.. dinner, wine, civilized talk.. I am a uni student he is a successful musician.. before even getting out of the car he is organizing to score so i am let off at home and he screeches off in my new car to the dealers house. I am now waiting for him to return.. maybe he will crash the car on the way home.. maybe he will be pulled over charged with speeding then drug tested... i am hoping that right now... I didnt go through years of self discovery and life to end up like THIS. This is my final year at uni.. I have a graduate job to go to.. I am waiting for my junkie boyfriend to get home from his dealers house. He will come in, all smiles, he will tell me I am great and sexy (we havent had sex since June.. Its now September) He tells me its like going to bed with his stomach empty.. that its just like any other drug. I am 32 I am young I am fit I am smart I have no ties.. I have a great future and I have a junkie boyfriend who cant wake up in the morning to make me a cup of tea until he has been to see his dealer because he's "edgy".

[williwonti]

I cant be sympathetic to this anymore.. WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? when he gets in.. I am grabbing the key.. I am shutting the door... I am closing the chapter of that life.. he's home.. see how I go... Fuck.