We sat there in the glow of the TV, listening to the white noise. I can't remember when it broke and the old sitcom repeats and cartoons gave way to the grains of white and black on every channel, but I can remember that I said I'd buy us a new one. But we had more pressing needs, ones which old episodes of Futurama couldn't fill. We? Yeah, there's a we. Charlotte and me. That's probably the hardest part to remember when I've looked at her these past few days, even though we had been together for three years. They've been a pretty rough three years I'll admit. We definitely didn't get married or go to college when we left school like we dreamed of, but we had each other. It'll get better - I'm sure this is just a phase that every couple goes through, no matter how good they are. I tell myself that as the empty couple of feet between us on the stained and dirty couch seems to stretch out for miles.
"Hey babe, you wanna help me?" I say to her, smiling as I sift through empty takeaway boxes and cups, finally getting a hold of the plastic tube. She ignores me and keeps watching the static on the TV. This is how you want to be? How long are you going to keep this up for? Fuck you then, see if I give you a hand next time.
I strap the tube tight against my arm and knot it. I close and open my fist over and over again. The veins strain against my skin as I feel a prickling sensation in my arm. Maybe it's a little too tight but who cares... it's never about the journey for me. The important part is the destination, and what a destination it was. It was a destination that flowed through you and became you, cupping you in warmth as it raised you above all your problems. It's not like me and Charlotte won't come good again, if she'd stop being such an asshole. It always came good again if we both just respected each other but all she cared about was the drugs or the money that buys them.
I shoot a glance her way as I pick up the needle, thoughtfully prepped hours before by yours truly. She doesn't even notice me. Or maybe she's just trying to quit. My anger caves in to guilt and understanding as the warmth radiates outwards from the needle as I press the plunger in. Yeah, that's it. She could have been somebody if it wasn't for me getting her into all this. The tears sting more than the needle does, but I've had as much practice at ignoring them as I have at ignoring the needle by now. I put the needle back down and scoot over next to her on the couch to where she is leaning against the armrest. I put my arm around her. She gives me the cold shoulder still, but I don't mind. I won't let it affect me now.
"We'll be okay you know," I say as I turn to look at the T.V. Patterns form in the static. "I'm gonna help you quit, that was the last time I'm doing it too you know. I think we've both had enough of a good thing by now," I chuckle to myself as the warmth deepens and becomes a steady, slow burn.