Creative Writing

Take Me as I Am

Dear Jay,

I have been away, just for a little while. I was a little bit lost and a little bit wrong. And I am sorry for running away from you like that. I really hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me because I know that I have hurt you bad, again.

This isn’t the first time I’ve hurt you, to be honest I can’t even count the number of times. You have no reason to believe me, to believe that I will be different this time, but I believe that for some reason this is different. You see, I love you because you love me, and I am strung out so strung out on your love when I am clean. But when the temptations become reality and the drugs kick in I am completely off my head again. Strung out on something that is killing my mind, body and soul.

I’ve been away for sometime now, tied up in all sorts and I am in a spot of trouble, and that has nothing to do with you, so this is not just me asking you to help me out of it again. I’ll work it off if I can, but I just want you to forgive me. I want to promise you that this is the last time I pick drugs over you and our friendship.

I see you as most like a friend, as a brother and even a parent. You took me in and adopted me as a child. We have been through similar things, but you never deserved it you only went through them because of me. I remember when you were jumped by the neighbours boys because I stole all of their money. You took the blame because you didn’t want me to experience the pain you felt from their beatings.

And when we had to rush out of the house in the middle of the night, because girl I had forced to have an abortion went nuts and lit up the home you worked so hard to build for us. What was worse, you stayed back in the house and risked you life for me. If I wasn’t out of my head on the devil’s nectar and coke I would have been able to hear the alarm and feel the heat and do something. Instead, you did that for both of us. And now you suffer from lung cancer from the smoke and somehow I am as healthy as a newborn.

You even willingly lost your job instead of me. We were struggling to make it on the little we had, and when I turned 18 and we stopped getting governmental help, you got me a job as your assistant. I took the days earnings out of the till. I knew it was wrong, but I knew we needed the help. I had good intentions. But you were logged in, and you knew, you knew I did it, but you refused to turn me in. I suppose you figured I would learn my lesson and keep the job, and less than a week later we were both jobless. I did it the first time for food for us, but the second time I did it for food for my veins. I’m sorry.

I ran away and got fines, and I lied and used your details. I don’t even know what you did about that. But I do know that every wrong I ever committed, you righted. Every single one. When I was a child, when I was a boy and darn, when I became a man. And even in old age, you still take on my burdens.

When she said she loves me, in her soft and sinful voice I believed her, and for decades I followed her and I worshipped the ground she walked on. She said there was nothing evil about what I was doing, they just didn’t understand, but she understood. She promised to love me every single day of my life, she told me it wouldn’t hurt, she told me she would give me all I ever wanted and needed. She said she saw my struggle and she would be my help, build me up so that I could fly on my own. She said I was her king. ‘I mean what man want’s to rely on another man?’ was her melody, and she sang it so beautifully. I fell to my knees before her and I was consumed by this black diamond.

But she is killing me, most of my veins are dead, my heart is rock-hard and ice-cold and my soul, my soul has been crushed but not beyond repair. She has broken me, her breath, a drug that captures your throat like a yoke and squeezes at it like the moments before death. My mind is frizzled, I have known for a while that she was the one causing the pain, but my mind would register this pain as pleasure. And then I would recognise the pleasure as pain, and notice that it came in temporary doses. But each time, I would drop you like a hot pot, and go running back to a temporary shot of fatality. Each time, adding another bruise or scar to the one who has saved me. You. I couldn’t go without trying again.

So I have come back to you, my father, my friend, my saviour. I have departed from the knees of she called death and I fall to my knees before you, I become prostrate before you.

I am sorry. Will you forgive me? I believe this time is different because I have not simply come back for help, but I have come back home because it is where I belong. You love me and you have proved it and I have allowed her to blind me. But it was only temporary. This is all temporary, but what I have with you will last forever.

I have been away for a while, just a little while, but it was long enough to realise I do not want to be without you. The doctors have said that I am lucky to be alive and I might have only hours or weeks left to live. I know I could ask you for my health back again, and promise you I would live a good life. But more than anything do I wish to be in your presence. So I will not ask for good health. And I do not come before you in this state because I am afraid of Hell, darn, the way I have lived and treated you I know I deserve it. I love you and I want to be in your presence. So as I come to you I only need minutes to ask you to take me now, take me as I am.

Love, your child.

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