My best friend, My worst enemy.

At eleven, my parents and teachers convinced my they were my worst enemy.
At twelve, they became the Lord Voldermort of my household; no one dare spoke of them.
At thirteen, I watched my brother search his room far and wide for places to hide them.

At fourteen, they were something I just tried at a party, just to be like all the others.
At fifteen, what had first been called my worst enemy was slowly becoming my best friend.
At sixteen, half of every paycheck earned was spent on my best friend.
At seventeen, my best friend became more important than my girlfriend, which she didn't like.
At eighteen, I was spending so much time with my best friend, I forgot to graduate.
At nineteen, my best friend got me kicked out of my house, but I did not care.

At twenty one, I took my friend to every bar and sold pieces of him to pay my bills.
At twenty two, my best friend acted as my wing man, he landed me a woman I would call my wife.
At twenty three, we were sharing my best friend, and forgot all about protection.
At twenty four, I thought having a son meant saying goodbye to my long time friend which did not happen.

At thirty five, I tried to convince my son that my best friend was his worst enemy.
At thirty eight, my son decided to take a ride home with my best friend in hand.
At thirty nine, my best friend took my only sons life.
At forty, in the suicide note, I found myself referring to my best friend of twenty six years as my worst enemy.