Saturday we got up late and I drove Steve over to Ambleside to pick up his methadone. Then when he got back in the car he said, 'we need to go to Windermere because I'm really anxious.' I argued with him, saying that heroin wasn't the answer because then he'd just be mnore anxious another time, and why didn't we just go for a drink and he'd relax. He said he'd had a drink (he'd had three cans of Special Brew by then) and still felt bad. I said it was no wonder he'd gone through £200. He denied having any more then one bag last week, which he'd initially said Ricky had given him, but on the Friday he admitted he'd paid for it when I confronted him and said I knew he was lying.
Anyway, when he phoned his dealer, he hadn't got any, so there was no point going over anyway. HA! Instead we went to pick up his tools, As we were going he said he hoped I didn't mind and didn't think he was taking the piss. I said getting his tools wasn't taking the piss, but getting heroin was. So then we had another re-run of the heroin argument!
After we'd got the tools we went for some food and a drink, but he was being really edgy. For some reason he'd said his phone battery was gone and he put Ricky's number in my phone and kept on trying to phone him, but he wasn't answering. So he texted him asking him to call when he could.
Then we took some drink down to the lake. Then, in one of those self-destructive things that I do, I moved my rings back to my right hand, because I said I thought that was why he was on edge. He said, 'I hadn't even noticed that.' Great. So he didn't remember anything of the night before?
We then went down to the jetty on the other side of the lake, chaning clothes on the way and picking up his bike. Eventually it got really cold, so he went to get another coat and a jumper. While he was gone, it started raining, so I set off back too, thinking he wouldn't come out in the rain. I was just reaching the road when he turned up, and he said to put the jumper on being as he'd brought it. I took his coat off and put it on the floor to put the jumper on and he went spare at me! So I shouted back, saying that I was sick of him picking on me, and not everything was my fault. He said why was I walking home and did I think he'd abandon me. I said no, but I hadn't thought he'd come out until the rain stopped aand I wasn't sure it would.
Then he said why was I crying and I said I was upset because he'd been horrible to me all day, and because of the ring thing, because I'd said not to move it unless he was sure, and then it turns out it was all shit because he can't even remember doing it. He said that wasn't true, and why wouldn't I just believe that he meant what he said? I said he'd said he didn't remember, and he said he did remember, and he'd meant it all.
So then we walked home in silence. When we got back he was looking through all the pockets of the coat I'd been wearing, and then he said, 'what have you done with my bank card?' I said I hadn't done anything. He said it had been in the coat, and now it wasn't, so I must have done something with it. I said I hadn't, why would I? And why was everything my fault? He shouted at me to stop shouting, because I wasn't even meant to be there. I shouted back that he shouldn't accuse me of things I hadn't done. He said I must have taken the card and thrown it away. I said I hadn't, but the added, 'and what if I had? It was all my money anyway!' And WHY would I do anything to his bank card? 'Out of spite because you're an arsehole.'
I burst into tears at this point, even though I was halfway through packing my bags, I don't know where I thought I was going because I wasn't sober enough to drive. Then just as suddenly as he'd set off at the lake, he switched again, and put his arms around me and said he was so so sorry, he didn't mean it, he knew I wouldn't do anything like that. Maybe he'd found the card but I hadn't seen?
After that we had a really nice evening, just watching crap telly and making love, more a sort of comforting thing than sexy really. Then my phone beeped. It was Ricky, a missed call. I told Steve and he snatched the phone off me. I said why was he bothering when it was almost 11pm? He argued with me, but eventually just gave me the phone back. Then he heard what he thought was Ricky's car and he was out of bed at the window quicker than if his arse was on fire! But it wasn't Ricky. HA!
This morning he was working, buthe got up and got me a cup of tea, and was being really nice again. But he still was drinking, from first thing.
He went to work at 10am, then I got up and ready to go. I was just packing the car when he appeared - he must have been watching for me, which was nice - and un-Stevelike. He said to text him when I got back and I asked had he charged his phone. He said he didn't know, but he'd get the text. So more phone strangeness - don't think the battery was low at all or he would have charged it.
But it was niuce to have the chance of a little snog before I left, and he said he loved me lots of times last night and this morning, like when we were together before all this kicked off.
So - we'll see what happens now.
