Marijuana and me

Hm.

Marijuana, the wonder drug.  You Use to be my best friend, now you’re that distant friend who only calls on me when you need something.  That’s not how this relationship works.

We use to hangout, take drives; we even drove across Canada from Toronto, ontario to Slave Lake, Alberta, and we still broke bread together.  What happened to us?

Now I only see you when we workout.

I guess our friendship is a balanced give and take for both of us, but I don’t see it, so hopefully as I’m spilling my mind onto these pages some recognition will be had.

I considered myself a marijuana connesiour, sort of how I like my women.  Different cultures, different sizes, different shape, exciting new colours, scents, trim appeal!  Mmmmm..  I’m not sure if the description of marijuana is turning me on, or I’m picturing a Walmart variety of women to choose from!

I digress.

It was never the same, you had so much to offer.  You are also medical.  Holy shit!  You’ve helped me so much in my life with my back issues and mentally taking me out of bad situations so I could create and find a focus for myself in my life.  But where did we go wrong?

I was in a committed relationship which extended into something around 3 years.  At first we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, our eyes met and locked from simple browses, your scent would captivate me and block out any other aromas that may have been present or lingering.  I’m talking about the marijuana.  Ha, just playing, that was my lady who kidnapped breaths of mine, forcing my heart to pump harder, so blood was continuously rushing and coarsing throughout my body, every part of my body.  That includes my second brain.

Let me set this up for you.

She was picturesque of what an ideal woman should be for me in my life.

Physically demanded to be looked at, smoked marijuana, aspiring Developmental service worker (DSW), drove, a pleasure to be around.  She possessed morals which guided her life, almost like a compass to Paul Bunion (that may be showing my age now.).  She had a passion for outdoors and life in general.

I wanted her to walk along side me, she I next to her.  I wanted our paths to cross on numerous occasions, and it did.

To make a Long story short, there were Demons I was unaware of that plagued her life, much like most people.  Her motivation and zest for life diminished, which left her in a place of darkness.  I stood beside her.  She spent money as if it was going out of style and wanted to keep up.  I stood beside her.  There was always money for marijuana.  I stood beside her. Bi soon recognized that she had an addiction for marijuana and she didn’t recognize it.  

It soon became that every time she pulled her lighter to torch the bowl she had packed in her piece to smoke would cause me anxiety.

Marijuana had become a place of darkness for me in certain aspects of my life.  No money, no savings, but there was always marijuana.  I don’t have an issue with marijuana, but rather the fact that marijuana is her vice and extends to other regions of her life.  Our future was becoming bleak, almost hazy.  I ended up walking away from my love, and that hurt.  I’m talking about her, not marijuana.

I still smoke tobthis day, but only under certain circumstances, because it causes anxiety.  I smoke before I workout and go running.  Marijuana still assists with helping me clear my head while working out.

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