As Monica drives the two of us home my high slowly, but surely, wears off. I hate the anxious and irritated feeling I get every time this process happens. There's this sensation as well that comes with it, it's like an itch, it's like there's things slowly crawling beneath my skin.

Like fucking fire ants.

I just want to stay up. I want to stay on that level of consciousness or rather the lack of consciousness and not experience the crash that inevitably happens. The one that is about to hit and hit hard.

Like a fucking freight train.

The lows are the fucking worst and it's been so long since I've felt them, since I've felt this. I hate this. I hate the way the self-loathing flows through my veins the moment the toxins leave. The need to make it stop makes me a completely narcissistic fucking asshole.

My hands are shaking. I'm sweating. I'm beginning to feel nauseous. Im honestly just one big fucking mess right about now. A mess. That's just me in a giant fucking nutshell; literally.

"Sean?" Monica's voice calls to me through the sound of the music playing in the cab of the truck but I don't say anything in return, I just focus on the song. "Babe, are you okay?"

"Fine." I manage to mumble out even though I feel anything but fine.

My heart has stopped racing but my head is starting to spin. My world feels like it's on an uncontrollable tilting axis. I close my eyes, run my hands over my face and try to regain some type control of myself.

Being with Monica has helped me stop using. Well, not entirely but somewhat. Right now, I was starting to sense that may not be such a good thing when piling everything on top of each other in extreme excess and doing so all in one night. The affects feel so much more intense and it's utterly bitter fucking sweet.

"Sean?" Monica's voice says once she parks the truck. "You're freaking me out, babe."

"For fuck's sake, Monica. I said I'm fucking fine." It comes out angrier and much louder than I had intended it to but I just want to be left alone right now.

"You don't need to be a dick." She grits out.

Don't need to be a dick?

I open my eyes, finally regaining control of my vision, then gaze over at her. She looks angry, giving me that look again. My irritation factor is already ramped up so anything extra from her is just pissing me off because I'm diving head first into that god damn low.

Fuck this. I don't need to deal with this.

I reach into my pocket, remembering the substance I have inside of it. How I'd forgotten it was there up until this point is beyond me. I could seriously use a pick me up right about now. I can't take this low, not with Monica looking at me like that, not feeling like such a complete piece of shit. I don't even look at her as I do a quick bump but I can feel her eyes burning holes into my skull.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Her voice is incredulous before she snatches the bag away from.

"Monica, what the fu-..." I choke on my words because before I can snatch the bag back she's already dumped its contents out.

My face goes numb but there's a white-hot anger I can feel boiling beneath the surface. No, numb is quite the opposite of what I'm feeling in regards to this situation. "You are fucking kidding, right? You just dumped that much shit onto the ground without a fucking second thought."

"Yup." She says with a shrug like it's just no big deal.

"That was mine, Monica. That was not yours. You don't take my shit and throw it away."

"Well, I'm not kidding and I'll keep throwing as much of your shit out so you can't poison yourself with it anymore." She opens the door and begins hopping out of the truck. "You should be done with all this shit, Sean. If we're moving in together, starting a future together, then drugs aren't going to be a fucking part of it." She slams the door angrily then walks towards the apartment.

"The fuck did you just say to me?" I question as I get out and follow her.

"I told you that I don't want you using anymore, Sean. No more."

I stare at her back as she walks into the apartment complex. She jogs up the stairs and I'm right on her heels. We get into her apartment and I know shit is about to get really fucking ugly.

"Maybe I shouldn't move in." I slam the door behind me. "I don't think it's a good idea anymore."

"What?" She whirls around to face me. "So, let me get this straight, because I threw out your drugs you don't want to move in?"

"No, it's because you're trying to control me and I'm not going to let you do that." I absolutely loathe the fact that she's trying to control me, my bad habits. No one is going to fucking dictate my life but me.

"I'm just trying to look out for you, Sean." She walks toward me but I back up against the door which makes her stop mid-stride.

"I think... I think maybe we need to take a break." I don't know why I am suddenly panicking at the situation between Monica and I. It's all just too much. Everything that's happening is all just so fucking overwhelming. Her family, us moving in together and now her trying to control me. I can't take it.

"Sean, don't do this." I just glare at her, causing her face to fall. "Please... please don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything but saying I need a break." The claustrophobic feeling is completely surrounding me. I feel suffocated. I need to be myself, to feel free.

"Sean, I love you." She takes a step forward with tears in her eyes. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

"You're trying to control me and my fucking life." I shake me head, "no, fuck that, Monica. I'm not going to let you mind fuck me into being some submissive little bitch. Ain't happening, sweetheart." I pinch my nose again.

"You're acting like this because you're high, Sean." She lets out a sad sigh. "Babe, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. I'm here for you, trying to help you. Let me help pull you out of your darkness."

"What? By letting you treat me like a wayward child?"

"No, by not letting you hurt yourself anymore because I fucking love you and I care about you!"

"No, you're just trying to control me." I begin to open the door to leave but Monica grabs my arm.

"Please, don't do this." I hear the sadness, the desperation, the tears in her voice and my insides begin to tangle.

I close my eyes because I can feel my high beginning to fade. "Monica, I can't do this. I can't be who you want me to be. I can't be that guy."

"I just want you, Sean. I want you to be you, but I want you to be the best version of yourself. That means no, I don't want the man I love getting saturated in alcohol and drugs on a repetitive basis. You've been so good with all of that shit lately. You have barely even drank, Sean. I've been so proud of you. You've just been you, not altered all the time. When you let yourself get like this you're hurting yourself."

I close my eyes and pound my fist into the door. My head and my heart are at fucking war with each other. The demons that have resurfaced lately are because of everything going on with Monica. They had come in because I fell face first for her and was trying to be good enough for her. At the end of the day, I wasn't good enough for her and never would be.

The only women I'm good for are ones that want a good and thorough fucking. The women that want to drink and get their brains as fucked up as mine are the only ones for me. The type of women that were thoroughly coated in darkness, like me, were all I was made for. I wasn't made for someone like Monica.

"I think we should stop seeing each other." I say almost painfully into the door.

"No." She pulls on my arm, ultimately making me turn towards her. She grabs ahold of my face and makes me look at her. "Sean, stop sabotaging yourself. This isn't over. I still love you. I will always love you."

When I look at her I realize that no, I wasn't made for Monica. No, Monica was made for me. She was sent from whatever god you want to believe in just for me. To throw Monica away would be the worst decision I'd ever make in my life. For once, for one fucking time in my life, I won't let myself make a shit decision.

"I can't lose you." I whisper down to her beautiful face. "I can't." Those big brown eyes are just staring back at me happily now.

"No, you won't lose me, babe. I'm right here." She kisses my lips. "I'm not going anywhere my love. Nowhere."

"Why?" And it's a valid question considering everyone in my life left me. Well, everyone except Trevor had.

"Why?" She looks up at me with a soft smile, "Because when I met you, you just seemed like an arrogant, self-indulgent prick." I have to make a scoffing noise at that. "You know it's true." I can't help but let out a small laugh. "Then after spending the night with you I realized that there is so much more to you. There is so much underneath. More than what you'd ever project outward for others to see. You've been through so much and yet here you are."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, here I am, a big heaping pile of fucked up."

"No, you're not. Well, maybe a little." She gives me a little laugh. "You're in a relationship, actually maintaining one with me. You've been staying relatively clean, doing much better than before."

I shrug, "Yeah okay, and?" I don't really see what the big deal is considering those are things that regular people did every day.

"Sean, I'm proud of you and the man you are becoming. I love you and you may think that I don't see all the progress you've made but I do." She cups my cheek with her small hand. "I'm proud of you, babe. I just want you to keep taking care of yourself and getting altered like this isn't taking care of yourself. You're hurting yourself."

Guilt rides throughout me like a fucking plague. She's the only one to make me look my bullshit dead in the face. "I'm sorry, Monica. I- I've just been so fucking..."

"I know and if it's too much for you I understand." She tries to hide it but her face begins to fall a bit as she says, "listen if you really don't want to move in I understand."

"No sweetheart, I'm moving in. I just need help getting my head on straight." What the fuck did I just say? Since when do I need help with anything? But regardless of my internal thoughts I continue. "I'll try, okay? I'm not making any concrete promises though."

She smiles up at me happily which makes me feel like I've said the right thing for once. Monica wants me to stop using and abusing. I could try, right? I mean, I'm pretty sure I can. It was just like this whole relationship thing, I know I'm bound to fuck up eventually but I could try.