Definition: Given a real-life anecdote of a complex ethical situation, generate a suitable title that describes the main event/root cause of the situation. Imagine that the given text is a social media post, and you have to write the title of the post, so the users can decide to read the main text or not.
Input: Needed to vent because I *feel* like the asshole, but I can't do it, i just can't. Also, sorry for the length. 

TLDR: My friend goes through phases where he's around constantly and is the biggest part of my life, followed by periods where he nearly overdoses on drugs and isolates himself. This pattern is breaking my heart, and I don't think I can be there for him when he gets out of inpatient this time. 

Friend and I have grown up together, our parents were close friends and we lived in the same town. We went to all the same schools, and the same church. Every weekend for almost a year and a half, we volunteered at a food kitchen together. He was my first crush, my first kiss, and my first valentine. We'd gone through so much together. 

Our first year of high school, he completely dropped off the map. He started hanging around some new kids, and I had a pretty structured group of friends. I would invite him to things, but most of the time he would decline. I kind of shrugged it off and wondered if maybe his new friends were pressuring him to "date" me or something, as most young high schoolers were doing that kind of thing. We still hung out, but it was pretty much only between classes at school.

The summer before 10th grade his mom had a talk with mine, who then relayed it to me. His mom took him to the doctors one day because he was acting really strange and shaky and had the sweats, wondering if he had the flu or something. It was heroin withdrawal. 

I remember being so shocked. I was a sheltered kid, it was a small town, and we were barely *fifteen* for Christ's sakes. At the time, I had never seen pot, much less used heroin. I remember my mom asking me, more like begging me, to tell her if I knew anything about it, anything at all. I mentioned his new friends to her, but that information wasn't anything new to my friend's parents. They knew who he'd been hanging out with, but apparently they didn't know they were kids who had access to those kinds of drugs. 

His family checked him into rehab, and they kind of broke down around that time. They tried to hide it from him, but I think it was pretty obvious to everyone, especially because it was such a small town. His parents separated for a bit, his older brother partially cut himself off from the family, and his younger brother just seemed so lost. I think they were all so shocked by this. When I've talked to my mom about it, she recalls his parents confiding that they just didn't understand. They felt they had done everything right as parents, taught him right from wrong, gave him just a little bit of freedom. She thought they talked openly about things like drugs and alcohol, and she just didn't understand how it had gotten so bad so quickly, and he was so young. We both were. 

He was a part of inpatient rehab for a long, long time, and he never came back to school after that. Our junior year, once he was out, he elected to do nontraditional schooling (sorry, this was a long time ago and I don't remember what it's really called) where he was still technically a high school student, but was taking all of his classes at the local community college. His plan was to graduate with both his high school diploma and his associates degree. 

He wasn't allowed to hang out with his old friends when he got out, the group who had introduced him to drugs in the first place, for obvious reasons, so he and I started to hang out a lot more. I was a flat-out dork, but we had a lot of the same interests. We both loved stand-up comedy and The Sims, so a lot of the time when we hung out we did that kind of stuff. A lot of the stuff we did was either at my house or his house, because his parents were really protective at that point. Our friendship continued smoothly until halfway through senior year.

In spite of everything, he still managed to get into it again. No matter how hard I pushed, he was withdrawing from me and my group of friends. I said something to both his and my parents, but they just brushed it off as him becoming more introverted; they never saw him act suspiciously in any way. 

He had his own car at this point and his parents rarely used it. One morning really early, his dad was going to work and walked past his son's car, glancing inside. There was a dime bag on the floor. Upon further investigation, his dad found needles inside. He was using again. 

I couldn't be there for him as much this time because everything else in my life was moving so fast. I was graduating high school, I was preparing for college. I moved away for school, but only a five hour drive. To my understanding, my friend was doing okay and was in inpatient care again; he couldn't have non-family visitors, so I left for college without saying goodbye. 

We lost touch and so did our parents. His were seeking advice and help from families who had gotten through this thing before, and mine were coping with having me moved out while managing my younger siblings. Just like my friend and I were going through different things, so were they. 

We were friends on Facebook so I could see that he was doing okay. He'd been clean since our senior year, so about five years, a little less. About three months ago, this friend messaged me on Facebook. I'm currently a grad student at XYZ University, and he had just been accepted there to finish up his bachelors. He wanted to reconnect, and I was so excited about this.

For three months, we were inseparable. We shopped together, took exercise classes together, I introduced him to all of my friends and he became very close with my fiance as well. From the beginning there were things that struck me as weird about his sobriety. He could still drink - and he did, often heavily - and he bought medical marijuana. I brushed these off because every person in recovery is different, and I also wasn't very educated on the subject. I brought it up to my parents during a phone call, and they said pretty much the same thing; after all, it had been five years since we had any knowledge of him doing drugs, maybe things were really different now.

His mom called me last week. My friend apparently called her and was freaking out - she didn't know if he'd taken something, was having a schizophrenic attack, had hurt himself or if someone had hurt him. She drove the five hours, found him alone in his car outside his apartment, threw him in the back of her van and drove him to the nearest hospital. 

At the hospital, they found crystal meth in his system. She was calling me to tell me all of this, and asked me to bring home some things from his apartment when I came back for Thanksgiving this year. He's in inpatient again, this time at a supposedly better place in Texas.

When he gets out this time, I don't think I can be his friend.

I understand that addiction is a disease and that it can do so much damage to families and relationships, but it just hurts so much to be around someone who had so much potential and so much going for him and just see him throw this away again and again. It truly does break my heart. He was my best friend for so long, and I hate that I can't be there for him this time, or maybe ever again. I don't know what I would do if I lost him, but I just can't have him be such a large part of my life anymore. I love him, but I can't watch him do this to himself. 

Am I the asshole?

not being around my recovering addict friend