She lives for me

One of the moments in my life I will never forget was this one time at this girl's house when I was a teenager. She was a bit of an attention seeker and we were really close. After school, I'd go over to her house (I never really knew the address, I just followed her home) and we'd just sit down in her living room and talk, do some crack (this is why we were close), etc. Never been to the other rooms in her house aside from the bathroom and kitchen. One day, she wore her favorite velvet dress (she doesn't wear it when I come over because she doesn't want to rip it) and told me that she was tired of coke and wanted something else. Luckily, I knew this kid at school who made meth (He'd stay late and sneak into the lab to make it, and he even said that he has his own "family recipe" and bought some off him. After we took some of it in her bedroom the last thing I remember was telling her that she bloomed like a rose after she ripped her velvet dress trying to take it off. The sex part was blurry, but I remember what happened afterwards; She told me that I fell asleep while banging her. I said goodbye (she wasn't listening though), put on my clothes, and left.

Fast forward to now: We've both quit the habit, and I was able to find the girl's contact info (she works for a big-name company now) so I called her up. After a while she brought up the incident above, and we began talking about our teenage druggie days. I wanted to meet up with her, and asked her about her parent's house. Apparently the area around it got renovated (new layout and everything), but her house is still where it always was. Since she visited it regularly, I asked,

>How do I get back there to the place where I fell asleep inside you?

>How do I get myself back to the place where you said,

>I want something else to get me through this semi-charmed kinda life