SEND ââ¤ď¸â FOR MY MUSE TO SAY SOMETHING POSITIVE ABOUT YOURS.
âYes, sheâs gorgeous and all that but I think people underestimate just how hilarious Samantha is. Sheâs incredibly funny and has the most wonderful laugh.â
SEND âđ¤â FOR MY MUSE TO SAY SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOURS.
âSamantha can be so fucking stubborn and headstrong to a fault. She just jumps to conclusions and once sheâs made her mind up thatâs it. The most annoying shit ever.â
âI am constantly throwing my clothes around my room. Saying my sleep schedule is irregular is putting it mildly. I fidget with my hands a lot. I need to be fiddling with something or else I start feeling restless. Oh and Iâm the Queen of Avoidance. My problems, taking decisive action, taking responsibility for my problems, being alone - I avoid it all.â
Whatâs the best compliment youâve ever received?
âI can give you word for word the best compliment Iâve ever received because it was equal parts funny and flattering with a dash of creepy. He said and I quote: âWith your bone structure and body composition, you could make a lot of money modeling.â I mean who talks like that? And if I saw him in a dark alley Iâd run the other way, but itâs still my favorite thing ever.â
Happiness. It wasnât a feeling Nikki had the most experience with. It came in waves. Rochelle was a pleasant surprise. She made Nikki feel like perhaps she wasnât such a fuck up. They went on actual dates, had real conversations, and when Nikki began randomly getting little postcards with cute messages on them she was downright smitten. Was it love? Nikki believed so. Or it was as close to being in love as she could be as an addict.
He was gone. Just gone. The last time she saw him was at a party. They danced, they drank, they got high, and they fucked. It was normal. Their relationship over the years had evolved. They were lovers, friends, enemies, each otherâs enablers, confidants, and safe places. Heâd been in a constant in her life since she was 18 and now he was gone forever. Now sheâs at his funeral.Â
 All she felt was emptiness. She exchanged stories with their mutual friends. His family didnât want them at the funeral. They were part of the dysfunction. She was part of the dysfunction. It would have been too much for his relatives. So they met at his grave site and laughed and cried and mourned him together.
Logically, she recognized his death should serve as a cautionary tale. She should use his death as a reason to get herself clean. She could honor his memory. It was the ârightâ thing to do. But she wasnât ready to face it. She wasnât ready to deal with any pain. She wanted to keep it buried. She wanted that sweet rush that came with the high and she wanted to feel nothing.
