On June 28, 2015, my ex boyfriend died of a drug overdose. He was 25 and an amazing person. Heroin stole him from the people who loved him.
But since I don’t feel like I’m drowning today, that’s all I will say about that.
I had a wonderful dream last night. I was back in college for a race that was running and swimming. My friends were all there, and all of a sudden, he walked up to me and said hello.
Everyone around me kept whispering that they thought he was dead. He told me that he was there to be my partner and helps me through the race. I jumped into his arms (he was 6’4″ to my 5’4″) and hugged him. I wasn’t sad. I was just so happy he was there.
As the race went on, I realized how healthy he looked. And further, I realized that he never left my side. When we were together and he relapsed, I would lose him often for 30 minutes at a time. He would make an excuse, but I knew what he was doing. There were no needle marks either. I kept touching his arms and noticed they were clear. His scar on his forearm (he put his arm through a glass door when he was a kid) was even gone. I even told him I was sorry to be so clingy to him, but I missed him so much and he looked so happy and healthy.
He smiled at me and said “I’m happy and healthy where I am now, babe.” And then I woke up.
I’ve struggled so badly with his passing. Contrary to what you may think, I’ve never been a drug user. I just loved him so much it didn’t matter. I still love him. I can’t understand the addiction that overtook his life, nor can I understand why God took him.
But I am so thankful for the time I spent with him. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I am even more thankful for God and him coming into my dreams and telling me that he’s okay; he’s clean, sober, happy, and God’s got him.
If he can’t be on earth with us, I couldn’t ask for much else.
I miss you, babe; always.