I met him in a Sushi Bar. His name was Leon. He was 30. He was a cokehead.
I have just spent almost a month with this man. He is quite a complex character. He is half British, half Aussie because of his divorced parents. Mother in London, Father in Sydney. Fleeting visits until he got into university, did too many drugs, drank too much, and smoked too much. "Best fucking city on the planet" he’d say about Sydney, then grow dark and add "but I hate it and want to go back to London." He’s been back and forth between both cities all of his life. He’s in love with both countries but can’t seem to settle. I feel sorry for him. To be in love with two countries is such a sad thing. "When I’m in Australia I feel British, but when I’m in England I feel like an Aussie."
He also happened to come from extraordinarily wealthy parents. His apartment (which funnily enough was right below The Canadian’s – another guy I was seeing recently) was amazing. Artwork everywhere, and a hot little car in the basement carpark. After our first date we sat in his kitchen debating what to do. He mentioned that he liked a line of coke ‘now and then’ which is fine. I don’t mind a line now and then either. He opened his kitchen draw, and instead of cutlery like most people would have, I saw an absolute mecca of drugs. Bags of Coke, viles of GHB, E’s, weed and an extensive collection of prescription pills. "Take your pick" he said. I went for the coke, because it’s my favourite food (well, you know, after dick.) Suddenly it was 3am and we had polished off three grams.
A day later I was in his apartment again, this time just to watch a DVD. But he was on it again. A plate was covered in lines waiting as I walked in. He looked lost and confused when I told him I didn’t want any. He went ahead and two hours later, he had done the whole gram. "How much do you do?" I asked, slightly concerned. "Maybe once or twice a week" was his response, but he couldn’t look me in the eyes when he told me.
That weekend we caught up again and went out to Slide Bar. I let myself go and together we drank and drank and every 20 minutes would run up the stairs to the bathrooms and snort blow like there was no tomorrow. For that night, there wasn’t a tomorrow; all that existed was coke. For me, it was the newness of having an endless supply of it; for him it was the newness of finding someone to do it with. By 2am, we were asked to leave and we stumbled out into the night. Leon handed me his car keys. I asked him if he actually wanted me to drive his car. He said, "Well, you're more sober than I am." This statement made me laugh. I was so drunk and off my face that I wasn’t sure I could even read. I drove anyway.
The next morning I snapped at a waiter, a lady who got in my way at Broadway and finally my Dad when he called for his usual Sunday chat. I decided then and there not to repeat the previous night’s activities. For Leon however, that was his life. The days and nights were merged into one, sleep that was broken, hot and uncomfortable, waking up each morning craving cold water and Advil, trying to remember what exactly happened and not being able to escape that sinking feeling deep in his stomach.
The next week was more of the same, but by the third week I’d had enough. It was obvious he couldn’t function without a straw up his nose. One morning I went over to his house for breakfast. He was awake, sober and feeling melancholy. "I think I miss London" he said. It was around this point that I stopped feeling sorry for him. All that money and talent wasted. He was 30 and still acted like he was 13. He lived his life so fast, every night going out to restaurants and bars, taking coke and drinking. I just couldn’t handle it. I’d only known him for three weeks, but I didn’t know anything about him other than my opening sentence above.
I saw him once more, in a cafe, mainly out of curiosity, but mostly to tell him that I didn’t want to see him anymore. However, he beat me to it:
"I think I’m going to move back to London. I’m 100 percent certain this time" Leon said.
"Why?" I asked
"The coke is better there."
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