unwritten letter

I want to know, how the fuck do you have this hold over me? Even when I build walls, and be good, and fall in love with someone else, why are you still there, like the last unsmoked cigarette in the pack, I tell myself will be my last, never mind that I quit smoking in 2015.  
 
I sure as hell don't keep you around as back up. That would be like expecting paracetamol to numb the pain of a broken femur, when not even morphine will do.  
 
But you are like a drug. You're my drug. You always have been. And unlike alcohol or cigarettes, I haven't been able to kick the habit that is you. I'm ashamed of the Twilight quote that comes to mind. Stephanie Myers can go fuck herself. I refuse to be a Bella, in any scenario.  
 
Of course I would get stoned and think crossing lines, with you, would be a good idea. Of course I would be full of remorse and confusion the next day. Of course I would tell my fucking boyfriend while I wanted to throw up, because how could this be okay? How could he be okay with this, me and you getting blurry? Maybe I just got lucky, because he's not mad, just a little hurt. My relationship is still intact, and will remain so even I cross that line again.  
 
And I hate that I want to. I hate that your presences gets me high. I hate that I can't and won't walk away. I hate that you can't and won't walk away. I hate that you're the best and worst thing that's ever happened to me, at the same time.  
 
I hate that I took a trip down memory lane and hit our history in a head on collision, and now I'm trapped in the car that is my head, because how could I possibly forget how badly you fucking hurt me? How could I forget that I let you.  
 
I hate that I love you, when I'm not sure you deserve any of it. I've just never known anyone that makes me feel so alive.

-Eve-