The Rise of The Queen

According to the calendar it was the 21st day of September, I was cuddling next to an amazing girl while listening to the sounds of rain hitting the roof of her garage. I thought I’d never stop smiling, I don't think I did. In that moment I swear everything was perfect.. ya know, that feeling you get when things work out exactly how you wanted? Yeah, better than that. This moment was absolutely perfect. Why was I feeling so satisfied and complete? Well, I got exactly what I wanted, exactly who I wanted.. I got her. My stomach filled with nervous butterflies and I smiled, she had no idea how happy she made me. For reasons I still don't understand, I was always a nervous wreck around her-- Girls never make me nervous. That’s how I knew she was going to be special but at the time, I had no idea she was going to end up influencing my life in such a significant way. I wonder if it would have changed things.  
 
While nervously lying in bed listening to The Beatles, I remember hearing,“I want to hold your hand.. I want to hold your hand..” and in my head I’d decided that would be my song for her. We talked, laughed and innocently flirted until she finally leaned in to kiss me, only gently. Before pulling away while our faces were still close and barely touching.. came the question I’d been preparing to answer for weeks, “Be with me, only me?” and without hesitation I confidently said, “Of course.” Right after answering her she was almost too adorable for me to even handle, she screamed and rolled closer to me in the bed saying, “You’re officially the most beautiful girl I’ve ever dated.” There are no words to describe the perfection of this moment and I wouldn't try to find some, because anything written would be insultingly inadequate.  
 
The next two hours were spent having intensely satisfying and surprisingly romantic sex. This wasn't just sex, it was our first time doing so and I couldn't have imagined more perfect timing. We had been patiently and occasionally not so patiently waiting months for the right moment and this was definitely it. The next day she admitted that she was ridiculously high from the heroin combined with the Xanax she'd taken and she couldn't remember anything. I laughed because if things hadn't happened exactly how they did, she would have been faking it and she was predictably predictable. Nothing about that night was fake and when I woke up the next morning, it was beside my girlfriend.. not my friend and I had finally got what I’d been waiting for.  
 
Skipping forward to the 1st of October— we’re still together and as far as I knew we were pretty happy. During this week she made the difficult decision to enter inpatient rehab for her heroin addiction and her mother informed her of the consequences if she chose to leave early. Homelessness. The night before she left for treatment, I stayed the night to say goodbye and get her out the door. At the time I had no idea that as soon as I left, my girlfriend had already planned for her other girlfriend to come over. You heard me right, her other girlfriend. This was the beginning of the love triangle to which I had no knowledge and had unwillingly inhabited one of the three corners. I was completely oblivious. She ended up leaving rehab the first day and I got us a hotel, where we hid for a week while she pretended to still be inpatient. We call this week our “rehab bubble." The day she went back home and the bubble was popped, our relationship might as well have been over. It was done from that day on.  
 
Today she asked why I never write about her, about our time together and this is why; the beginning is I have, it's all she hasn’t tainted and ruined. I chose to remember those first two weeks just like this, falling in love to The Beatles.. she hasn't ruined that yet. But the day our blissful rehab bubble popped and the real world started to leak in, the chaos began and I do write about it.. I write about it every day. I’m living it every single day. Three years ago I had no idea I'd become a drug addict and rather than loving her, I'd hate her instead. I never imagined I'd end up like this and definitely not because of her.  
 
Here you go, Baby.. just as you requested. This is how I choose to remember us-- without the tracks or syringes. Here is my fondest memory, my only memory. The rest is filled with rain clouds, blood stained walls and drug withdrawals. Only two weeks of our three years are worth remembering at all.