Demons of Heroine - A Tribute to My Boyfriend

A previous post inspired me to write this. While I don't have time at the moment to write this in detail, I'll be brief. I met a man 6 years ago who was my night in shining armor. He was a "bad boy" at heart.... a true Bostonian.... Growing up on the South End of Boston, which was one of the rougher parts, and living many years of his life in that area, Bryan had an opportunity to try heroin. What was thought to be a one time experience lingered on in his life for the next 15 years. I lived with Bryan for about a year; we dated prior to that. He was a biker and actually was in to dealing some drugs. I lived with Bryan until he passed away (committed suicide).

I'm not a drug user myself; however, I tried smoking weed a couple times. I never knew the severity or impact of what drugs, mainly heroin, can do to a person until I went through this experience. It took me a while to catch on to what was going on in Bryan's life, but once I did, he made more excuses for his behavior than a child could make up. Beginning with his use of syringes; he claimed he was a diabetic.... needle marks on his arm that he couldn't explain.... odd behavior; nodding in and out.... literally falling in to his plate of food at a restaurant.... locking himself in a restroom at a gas station to "shoot up".... Alrighty then! Stupid, I wasn't. In Bryan's mind what he told for excuses, he so intently wanted others to believe. He told me stories that would make anyone's hair curl. Just being stopped at a traffic light, he'd "shoot up".... any place he could find a place....


I spent days and nights; hours being awake with Bryan watching him go through withdrawals as he made several attempts to "kick the habit". He failed miserably. He knew that he was so far in, it would take more strength than what he was willing to devote to overcome this demon. A man that was once strong; handsome; and, who had a great life, went to becoming dependant on his drug of choice - heroin. I'd checked him in a treatment center in Jamaica Plains, MA, only to have him check himself a few days later. The man had life at it's best owning two homes; one on a lake in Raymond, NH; the other in Corpus Christie, TX. He owned a lobster boat at one point; 2 snowmobiles; a Harley; a yacht and cigar boat; 4 or 5 vehicles (at least one for every season); a mobile home; had "bling" up the yahooza.... he was a thriving electrician at one point in his life and he was a father.

It was a Thursday morning, I was home sick from work. Bryan got ready to go to his parents in Woburn, MA. He looked different that morning; I asked him how he felt; he said, "ok". He put on his chaps; his leather coat. He looked in to my eyes and said, "Donna, always remember that I love you".... "You have such beautiful eyes".... I watched him as he left the house; unbeknown to me at that time, it would be his final walk down the walkway. He mounted his bike; he waved.... I listened as I heard the rumble of his Harley fade in to the distance. Bryan didn't come home that night. I called and called different places that I thought he might be; he was nowhere to be found. I went to get in my vehicle to go to Woburn that night, I didn't have enough gas to get to Woburn and back to New Hampshire. I'd given Bryan all the money that I had for gas. The next morning passed; still no word. By then I'd contacted the New Hampshire and Massachusetts State Police to inquire if there had been a bike accident; nothing.

Bryan had known that his parents would be away that Thursday night; he hadn't told me. His mother had spoken to him prior to Thursday. That Friday night, I received the phone call that I had expected for months, yet, dreading the exact words, "Donna; Bryan's gone". I cried like I'd never cried; that deep belly cry.... yet, in some sort of peaceful way, Bryan now had put his demons to rest; he was free.... I immediately went to Woburn. As I arrived at the driveway, there sat his white Harley parked peacefully in the driveway; his leather gloves resting on the seat, Bryan committed suicide on September 25, 2004 at 46 years old.

It put an end to his misery; his life as it was. I know Bryan was a good man with a good heart; yet, the drug took all that away. He was a different person, who wasn't a good person. It put an end to me having to pick him up off the ground or the floor; an end to the endless hours waiting to see if he'd make it home or get home at all. It put an end to him stealing from me; lying to me. I was an enabler. However, I don't fault myself for standing by him to his final day. Bryan had no one in the end and had lost everything he had.

While his death was not a shock, it was a blessing to himself and everyone that knew him. He died peacefully at his mother's house and how he wanted to. Little did I know at the time, the times that I'd called his parent's house, Bryan was already gone.

My knight in shining armor! He is now on his magic carpet ride to a better place....

 

I think you are a very strong character to be able to go through the traumatic rigour of the worst kind of separation, and still keep the noble flame of humanity in your heart.

 

you are brave and so caring..just by writing what you wrote ..you have such a patiant and kind heart..I really hope the best for you and if you ever want to talk more in here...

 

I am glad you joined. Although the regular crowd tends to be a small gathering in here, you will find that those who are tend to be highly regarded individuals with humorous, entertaining, and informative contributions. Since the atmosphere here is liberal and thanks to Skip we can say almost anything we want, so long as we show social responsibility, debates can be interesting (sometimes even heated).

Also, there are periods of inactivity, but it's always worth checking in here to catch up on what's happening every now and again.

It's nice to see new members with fresh ideas, and sincere, exemplary writing, and I hope you will continue to be an active and more than wellcome member of our tiny community.

 

Thank you for your kind words. I love to write; love to blog. I appreciate the warm welcome and look forward to meeting new friends.