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We spent our early years, arguing who was better looking Jordan Knight or Joey McIntyre of New Kids on The Block. We liked to roller skate and listen to the latest music. We stayed with the fashion trends of the 80's and early 90's. We slept over each others homes, did everything together. We were bound to be best friends forever.

Later on in our lives, we decided to live together. We searched and searched for the perfect place for us. It had to fit both our needs, her opinion was classy, my issue was closet space. After searching forever, we found the perfect place and we, or at least I thought everything was going great.

I worked one full time job and one part time job. I liked to have money to pay bills and to have some put away in my bank account in case of emergency. I began to notice a patten with my friend after several months of living with her. She couldn't keep a job after we moved in together, always giving an excuse that it was always her employers fault, never hers. It just didn't sit right with me, but I knew how she was, she was very opinionated and argumentive at times.

Several months later, I began coming home to change clothes before I would head out to my part time job. I began seeing strange people I have never seen before in my apartment. This too struck me as odd. My friend and I have always had the same group of friends. I knew something was going on, at that point, I just didn't know what it was.

One day not long after that, I came home to find my CD Boom box and VCR gone, my friend claimed that someone had broken in to our apartment. What a crock of crap, I thought to myself. I knew what was going on, I was living with a drug addict. I never thought in a million years my friends, especially this particular friend would get involved with drugs. I spent the next couple of days trying to figure out what I was going to do, while dealing with her mood swings and stealing stuff out of our apartment. I was stuck, I had no place to go and I couldn't break my rental agreement. I only had two months left on the lease, so I knew I had to stick it out.

I think the final straw to our friendship was when I was notified by my bank that my ATM card was taken by the machine for the wrong PIN number being put in 3 times. My roomate decided to lift my ATM card out of my purse the minute my back was turned and had tried to withdraw money out of my account. I remember the day clearly, all I could see was red because I was so angry! I stuck out my 60 days left on my lease, locking my purse in the trunk of my car, putting the keys to my car inside my bra and sleeping with one eye opened. I couldn't take it anymore. Living with my friend, the drug addict, was a nightmare. I packed up my stuff and moved to my own apartment, not leaving a forwarding address with my former roomate.

It is now 17 years later and she is worse off than she was when we lived together. I do not hang with her, she is never allowed to visit my home. I don't even answer the phone when she has called me. Do I miss her? Yes, I miss the person I grew up with, the one who use to have the heart of gold. I no longer lay in bed at night worrying about her. She is a big person and after years and years of telling me she was going to go get help for her cocaine addiction, well I am still waiting for that to happen. So for now, I love her from a distance, because in reality I do miss the old her!

Learn more about this author, Kim Latham.
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