To The Girl Who Introduced My Son To Drugs
I pray you never know the fear of going to bed not knowing if your son will wake up in the morning.
chayanuphol / Shutterstock To the girl who introduced my son to the dark, damaging world of drugs:
I often think of you and hope that you are not still destroying other lives. You took my son from me and I pray you never take someone else's son from them.
You have no idea how your actions impacted our lives. I will never be able to hug my son again. I will never be able to hear his laughter the same way or see him grow up into the man I know he could always be.
Yes, it was a choice my son made, but nonetheless, you were the one who pushed him to the brink of no return.
You saw him lose his innocence. You saw that first high in his eyes. You cultivated and pressured him. I will never forgive you.
I however will pray for only good things for you. I pray that God finds you and heals you of the wounds that I have no doubt led you to that life. I pray that you find sobriety and never lead someone else down the path you have led my son down.
I pray you never have sleepless nights and restless days like I did and still do.
I pray you never know the fear that keeps you awake not knowing if your son will wake up in the morning. If the phone call you receive in the middle of the night is the one telling you to come down to the police station to identify the body of your son.
May you never know what it feels like to be paralyzed with fear every time the doorbell rings in the middle of the night — thinking, crying, hoping it's not someone there to give you the news your son has overdosed. That your beautiful boy is no longer of this world. That you have to bury his body.
May you never know the longing to see your son, to pray without ceasing that a change is indeed in his future, that he is free, clean, accepted, loved, cherished, cleansed, whole, and complete. The longing that he will come back to you.
May you never have to tell your heart and doubt in your mind "I will not bury my son," "I will not bury my son."
I do not blame you. I pray for you.
The high is temporary, but the effects leave a wound that only time can heal ... a scar that is forever engraved ... a haunting that is overcast by a hope that those days are over.
Alex Alexander is a pseudonym. The author of this article is known to YourTango but is choosing to remain anonymous.