Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Rehab ❯ Rehab ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is completely original and authored by myself.

 

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Rehab

 

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I took one last sinful breath before crushing my cigarette against the bottom of the ash tray in my car to put it out. I threw it out of the car and adjusted my rear view mirror again, almost watching to make sure it was out. My hair whipped against my face as I drove down an empty highway on a late summer evening. I was well outside of the city now, to the point where I could only see a glow on the horizon behind me. The dark sky above was clear and I could see the stars, but I think I'd have been seeing stars anyway. I finally got fed up and left.

 

I was driving, but it wasn't really a conscious action. There was nobody in front of or behind me for miles; on a weekend night like this they would all either be behind me in the city of angels or before me in the city of sin. It was funny; I never realized just how close the two were in this country. It was probably because I normally didn't drive anywhere outside of my current hometown, I had enough perks as a musician to fly anywhere in the country or outside of it at the drop of a hat and for almost no cost to myself. The label always picked up the tab for me. It was nice, but… I wished some days I could just stay at home with him. Hah, how funny that seemed to me now. Funny in that admittedly bittersweet way that one laughs at oneself to keep from going insane.

 

It was my house, my car, my life, and I was leaving it behind with him because I couldn't take it anymore. He was my ultimate drug, no matter how many times he hurt me or ruined me I kept going back for more. Everything was mine, it always had been, and I never asked him to work or provide anything. I loved him… if I was fortunate enough to have the money I did, I wasn't going to ask him to work too. What a mistake; leaving him to spend my money and drive my car to go pick her up and bring her into my home while I was away on tour. I'll have him kicked out tomorrow as soon as I get into the city and can call my lawyer. He didn't have any stake on my house, everything's in my name… I could have him gone in a heartbeat.

 

I wish I'd gone down this route sooner. He was my weakness, my disease for so long… I feel like in letting go of it all I'm finally just now going to rehab. Of course I'm not over him, I still love him. I just need to take some time and maybe twelve steps to move on. It hurt, almost like if you have a broken arm and it healed wrong and you had to break it once more and go through the pain all over again to make it right this time. This time I'll really heal, because I've taken him out of my life. I've taken away that venom, so this time I can truly recover.

 

I suddenly thought of the time he flew to New York to surprise me while I was on the road. He showed up backstage at one of my shows, just before I went on. He gave me roses and a kiss and wished me luck. I poured my heart into that performance, just knowing he was there. That was one of the few good times I'd miss, along with the tender kisses, the warmth at night, and the feeling of being loved. Unfortunately I've now realized that I wasn't truly loved, but I was in love with the idea of being loved. I was addicted to love—no, I still am. That's why I had to pick up and drive—I had to leave, I couldn't wait any longer. It's that one revelation that comes to an addict and they realize it's now or never, and I chose now.

 

I packed up several suitcases, took my convertible and hit the road. I like driving, it's so peaceful to have nothing ahead of you and behind you and just the stars above. I can't see the stars behind me, or in front of me, but for this brief time in between oases in the desert I can see the stars above me. Those beautiful lights in the night sky were more of a vision of beauty than anything I'd ever seen.

 

My stomach churned thinking of him again. This is the part where I fiend for my favorite drug, I think. I can't stand it. Yes, I do love him, or at least, there were things about him I loved, but I can't do this anymore. It's time to say goodbye, time to let him go and leave me in peace. The highs were amazing, but the crashes made it all worthless. The worst was when I walked into my home and found another woman in my bed, with him. The lowest of my lows—my rock bottom that made me wake up and realize it was time to help myself. The reason I packed up and left this evening.

 

I passed a gas station not far from the highway, just off an exit and saw my nation's flag flying at half-mast. I briefly remembered about the wildfires approaching my hometown and the men who lost their lives battling the blaze. I felt like I was fighting a fire within myself, and I was determined to win. Hell, even if I lost, I could deal with it as long as I went down trying. It probably will take a miracle for me to get past this, but I have to try. Otherwise I should lie down where I stand and let go of everything, because a life with this addiction, with this disease is a life not worth living.

 

I've checked my heart into rehab and it's time to stick it out. It's life or death, it's now or never—it's one of those opportunities to turn it all around and transform my weakness into my strength. I reached down for my cigarettes and found three left in the pack. After a moment of hesitation, I threw them out of the car. If I was going to drop my worst bad habit, I was going to drop them all at the same time. After all, I never started smoking until after I met him.

 

It was time to say goodbye to the past, to the pain, to the nicotine, to the false security. It was goodbye not only to him, but to my naïve heart as well—I'd never be able to give myself to anyone the way I gave myself to him. Goodbye to my addictions. Goodbye to my innocence.

 

The glow of the horizon behind me finally faded into nothing and I felt a smile creep into my face. I loved the dark night sky during summer, and the peace the long road ahead offered me.

 

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