You joined the Army right out of high school, and I was so relieved that you did. The military had a no tolerance for drugs. So I figured you would be on the straight and narrow. You needed a clean life and a clear head to see what you wanted with your life. Heck, if you wanted to stay in the Army for the rest of your life, that would have been a good, and the way your life was meant to be.
Two weeks after graduation, you were scheduled to leave. That day is still in my mind like a bad dream. You had your bags packed and were ready to leave, when we took that last picture together. I went with you to the airport, and we said our goodbyes. So much was going through my head. Every inch of my body was hoping you would be okay. Was this the path you were suppose to follow? Would you go back to your old ways? Would you feel a need to some how sneak in a joint or two while you were at boot camp?
I even went to your graduation from boot camp. I flew into Oklahoma City and drove straight to the base before I even checked into my room. You took me on a tour of the base, showing me where the weight room was, the mess hall, your bunk, and I even met some of your new friends. In those close quarters there was no way you could be doing drugs. Shortly after the graduation ceremony, you told me that you were going to be stationed in Germany.
Then, after only eight short years you decided that the Army wasn't for you. Once you enlistment ended, you packed up your things and came back home. I was in shock when I learned you were coming home. What had caused you to stop your love of the military, and your plan to spend the rest of your life there? What were you going to do now?
You arrived back home, and seemed content to start your dreams over again. You found a nice apartment, and took a job at the local warehouse filing orders for shipments. Luckily you had been saving your money while you were in the army. When you came home, you had saved $15,000. You didn't need to worry about furniture or a car. You had bought those in Germany, and the military had shipped them back home for you. You were all set to start your life over here.
I still remember the first time I met Gabby. You had met her while you were stationed in Germany and I’m not sure if I really liked her, but I was willing to put all my doubts in the back of my mind as long as you were happy. Then when you moved back home, Gabby came back with you. I still choose to not think much about it, but maybe I should have taken a moment to consider things. Did Gabby have any influence over your choices when it came to drugs? Did Gabby know something I didn’t?
You seemed to be doing very well at your new job, and life. I never heard a complaint from you, and you seemed to have your head on straight. You reminded me of the kid I use to know: happy and go lucky. The teenager that always seemed uncaring and laid back because he was high, seemed to have disappeared.
I would have not suspected anything until that one day in June. You, Gabby, Faith and I were getting ready for a trip to Universal Studios. We were sitting in your front room planning what time we would leave and when we would return. We all were laughing and enjoying our time together when there was a knock on the door. You answered it and let in a man I had never seen before. You took him into the bedroom, never introducing the man to us, and shut the door. The rest of us sat there just talking. We had no idea what you were doing. When the door opened, the man walking out; tucking money into his pocket as he walked to the front door. I knew at that moment what you two were doing, and a sinking feeling went down into my stomach. You were doing drugs again. I just hoped it was only pot and not something greater.
The next morning we left for California, and I had forgotten all about the man from the night before. We had a great time there, and we were all care free and happy. You never touched any drugs, I believe, the whole time we were there. I started to doubt my thoughts from the night before. Maybe it was not drugs that man bought. But maybe something else.
When we returned home, I put my thoughts about you and the drugs into the very back of my mind. I would not question this situation again for several months in the future. That’s when it all seemed to become perfectly clear.
After being home for six months, you declared that you wanted to move back to Germany. Your reasoning was that you felt like you were failing at life here. You had spent all the money you had saved from the Army, and you were always flat broke. I sat down and thought about why you were leaving. Your job paid all your bills, and gave you some extra money for anything you wanted to buy or do. You had not made any big purchases, or used your saving for anything that I knew of. So how did you spend all of your savings in just six months?
I had the sinking feeling that you had spent it all on drugs, and now you were using harder drugs. This is the only way that I could think of for you to have used your savings all of a sudden. The picture of that man on the night before Universal Studios came back to my mind. It all became perfectly clear. You were now a drug addict. But before I could ask you if you were back on drugs, or if you had truly stopped at all, you were gone. You had sold all your furniture, your car, and packed only a few personal items, gave your keys to your landlord, and you were gone.
I had no idea where exactly you moved to. Or if you made it there safe. I had no idea what had happened. Just that you were gone. I would not know anything about you for 2 years. As you cut off communications with everyone.
Then one Valentine's Day, I got the call. The call that made me drop to the floor and cry.