Lest we forget that this addiction stuff is a matter of life and death

Back in my early 20s, I had my first long-term relationship with a guy named Casey Jones. (For reals.) I was young and my judgement might not have been the best. Casey worked in construction and on pay day he would always buy his weed and beer before he paid the bills. I spent about a year and a half with him, stoned most of that time, I think. Also, we moved around a lot.

Casey worked most of that time for a guy a couple years older than us named Ronnie. Ronnie was a drug addict. I mean, we didn't think so at the time, but now that I'm older and wiser I realize that someone who shoots up cocaine (even if it's only on the weekends) can generally be categorized as an addict. Also, he had this weird Parkinson's shaking thing going on. I'm pretty sure it was from all the drugs. But Ronnie was a nice guy I guess (other than the IV-drug use, I mean.) (And the hoochie girls he dated.) He was a southern boy who loved his Tiger basketball. After Casey & I broke up I never really saw much of Ronnie anymore. Different circles and all that.

I did occasionally see one of Casey's friends that lives in town. I guess about 10 years ago Ronnie married this pillhead girl and they had a son. That was about the last I'd heard of him. Last night this friend of Casey's called me to tell me that Ronnie died on Saturday. Died at home, is all he knew.

Supposedly he'd gotten his life together recently, although I'm skeptical that someone can just quit doing drugs like that without some sort of drying out process or rehab. He left the pillhead and fought her for custody of his son, which he won about 3 months ago. I don't know the cause of death, but maybe you can only abuse your body for so long before it just gives out on you.

It's not like I feel any sort of loss. I knew this guy for a short period of time a long time ago. And given his history I wasn't really even surprised to hear that he'd passed. But I was reminded that people die from this disease of addiction. Sometimes people I know. And while, this time, it wasn't anyone I was close to, it could be next time. Next time, it could be me.