He was funny, unless he was in NEED, then not so funny. Looking good was important to him, in his 70's style pointed collar shirts. He had a nervous tick where he would jerk his head back and suck in air in a strange way. Handsome none-the-less. I have learned to maintain a ZERO drug tolerance and am able to spot an addict from miles away and to speak openly about the pain drugs cause, including pot. He called the house to talk to mom the night he died. He was high and I was pissed. I was rude to him. I was not one to enable him at all. I look back and I can still respect my tough love stance but I wish I could show him real love today.
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