Unfortunate Firsts..

I met my first addict 8 years ago. Me...22, new undergraduate and fresh in the field...Her...a beautiful 17 year old girl whose "father" started her on crystal meth at age 12.

She was my first intake. She changed my life.

I remember her name, I remember her face, I remember her story.

I remember that 4th of July when she gave me the first real test of my career.

I remember the rage, the pain, her teeth, her thin frame, the tears, the sleepless nights.

I remember her laugh, her smile, the way she joked around and acted 17 instead of the too old-too soon adult she acted as more than once.

I remember the night she left our facility, 18...aged out of the youth system...getting into her meth-dependent "father's" truck after he picked up his drug before picking up his daughter.

I remember praying for her as I watched the headlights disappear. Its fitting that I was the staff on shift a she said goodbye considering all the firsts she gave me to me.

I'll remember it all for as long as I live.

I've met lots of addicts. I've heard lots of stories. I remember the stories, but I forget the names and their faces after awhile. Some stand out more than others. The stand-outs I don't forget.

Today, this goddamn wretched disease of addiction took a life. A beautiful life. A 33 year old life. A man who wrote lyrics and played the guitar. A man who served the community with a smile and encouraged his fellow peers. A father to two beautiful girls. A husband. A son.

A beautiful life. Cut short before its potential could be met.

I don't doubt other addicts I've met along the way have met similar fates. This is just the first I've actually learned of a past client's outcome.

First death.

A first I knew would come someday. A first I wish wasn't a reality.