I have been doing so well. On Saturday night, I was going to hang out with my friend, and he called and said he had hurt himself on his motorcycle. He was going to stop by a friends house for some pain pills. I immediately started salivating over the feelings I knew he was sure to feel after he took those vicodin. Happy, relaxed, euphoric. I became angry. As I was on my way over to hang out, the battery went dead in my car. Talk about divine intervention. I did not have to see him like that. Truth is, I am the addict, not him. How can I be mad that he hurts himself and needs pain pills. I can't. But, it did trigger me to want to use bad. I did not use.