I met someone recently.

This is not new. I’m notoriously wild for the men. I’m easily distracted, and nothing distracts me better than someone I’m sweet on.

And boy, am I sweet for this guy. He’s terribly sexy, insanely smart, a hardworker, and charming almost to a fault. It’s rare that I meet someone in my hometown of Eugene that I find this attractive, and even rarer that person should return that attraction. It’s pretty exciting.

There’s only one problem: he’s a daily meth user.

If you’ve been reading me for a while, you know of my own deadly dance with crystal meth. I fled Seattle in December to return home from a six month meth binge. Rail-thin and deeply depressed, I came home, recovered, and have been rebuilding my life after the destruction the raging bathhouse scene of Capitol Hill wreaked in my life.

It’s been a long, uphill battle, one that has taken all of my energy, concentration, and emotion to fight. When you’re an IV drug user, it’s not as simple as saying “This stuff is bad for me! I’m not going to do it anymore!” Any reminder of the needle in your vein can trigger a complex and almost overwhelming urge to get high by any means possible (thanks, Mario, for that unfortunate Space Needle comparison). One of my housemates has a diabetic daughter who must inject herself with insulin daily, and due to my presence in the house a strict “no needles where Ian can see them” rule has been enforced. When the urge hits, I shake, become manic, and become terrified that this craving will be the one that breaks down my resolve.

Because it has before. Just because I left Seattle doesn’t mean meth has left me. I’ve had a couple relapses, and I know how insidiously that drug and my desire for it can blindside me. I become a different person, a terrible fiend that hungers for death to pop my vein, and that is a person I must strive desperately to avoid.

Naturally, I’m not going to seek out this boy anymore. As beautiful as he is, I just can’t. I can’t become a daily user again. I can’t give up my life to the Great God Meth anymore- because that’s what it became to me before. It became the god to whom I sacrificed every good thing I had, and I want to keep the good things I have.

I live an extraordinary life. I’ve gotten to do amazing things. On Tuesday I fly out to Minneapolis to attend Netroots Nation, a net activism conference with all the heroes of the online activism community I’ve come to admire. I’ve participated in direct action that has helped to change the policy of our country regarding gay servicemembers. I myself have had the privilege to serve my country in the armed forces. All in all, I have an amazing life.

I would trade it all in. I would trade it all in to not want this drug anymore and to be able to be around people I like. The fact that I have to stop seeing someone simply because I want to put a deadly and harmful chemical in my body tears at me. In essence: I would give anything to be normal.

But I’m not. I’m not normal, and I doubt I ever will be. Will it become easier to control and put away my awful hunger for crystal meth? Absolutely. It’s already lessened somewhat, and I look forward to the day when the shakes and panic attacks are a memory. Will it ever go away completely? No.

So I won’t be trading in my scholarship to Netroots, obviously. I’m going to go to the conference and see some good friends and meet my heroes, and I’m going to do it sober, and I’m going to be thankful that I am. Addiction is a disease, one for which there is no pill, and there is no amount of bargaining that will take that burden from me.

In a way, I’m lucky. I get to keep the amazing things that I have and I get to prove to myself my own resolve and strength. Maybe that’s how I should view this struggle to maintain freedom from crystal meth: an opportunity. An opportunity to show myself how strong I can be.

Ian Awesome lives in Eugene, OR and can be read further at his newsblog, OneAngryQueer.