My Love

Nostalgic... mesmerizing... I should have kissed her then, maybe that would’ve held me over while she’s gone now... I knew I was already addicted to something, and it poured from our lungs, but I find myself with addictive behaviors regarding the mere thought of her... I was finding reasons to isolate myself, yet I didn’t want to be alone. The only times I felt comfortable were the moments I spent with her; I felt like I was home. Afraid of what it would be to lose her, the anxiety of wondering what it would mean. Just like the substance, I only wanted more. More of the feeling, more of the abuse; it was clear that I’d do anything for her, and take her any way that didn’t hurt her or cause me to destroy myself. She is my amphetamine- my relapse and my recovery.