A Fine Line Between Love And An Addiction

You’re my drug. I know I can’t keep getting high on you, that this drug cannot be a part of my lifestyle forever, but it’s so much easier in the moment to just get high. It’s so much easier to not have to feel the pain and suffering of withdrawal from you. The pain I feel when I wake up, knowing I will not be hearing from you. Knowing that getting through the day will be the toughest thing, that every single waking moment will be a fucking struggle. I feel this way until I can justify sleep. The only thing I have to look forward to is sleep, and even then I can’t always escape you, you invade my dreams, my unconscious thoughts.

I’ve heard that dreams represent the things you need In your life. Is this true? I trust my unconscious mind more than my conscious mind these days. But at least sleep is more bearable. “6 o’clock, can I go to sleep yet? No, wait until it’s at least dark.” It’s the one time I’ve ever longed for the middle of winter. If it were February, it would be dark, and sleep would be justified. But it’s the middle of summer, and those extra hours of light, that used to seem so great to have — as they were extra hours that we could stay outside drinking beers, playing checkers, mini golf, bike riding, whatever it was that we did to fill the seemingly countless hours we had together. So many hours doing things. Not just staying inside and wasting our limited (as I now know it) time together. I’m glad that we didn’t waste our time in front of the TV, numbing our minds and conversation. I’m glad that we took advantage of every moment. I’m glad that we had such a rich time together. Quality over quantity, right? I’m not sure which I would prefer anymore.

Fuck, I want just one more hit. Just this last time. They say an addict is always an addict. Will I always be thinking about you? Will I always have these cravings? Every fiber of my being aches and longs for just a little more. But I know that the addiction is not sustainable.

I wish there was a concrete reason for this. I wish that this was out of my control. I wish you did something to make me hate you, or that I did something to make you hate me. Then I could accept it. I would have to. I would have to deal with it, and move on. But I am stuck. You don’t want this. I don’t want this. But we are doing the “responsible” thing and realizing that we are too different, that our personalities don’t mesh. But what does that even mean, for us? Is this really necessary. Yes. We fight so much, and don’t get along, and everything gets lost in translation. We aren’t walking away saying we didn’t try. We have tried. We have tried so many times, and things seem good for a little while, but it always turns.

At first I thought that our different personalities were a good thing, that we complemented each other. That we evened each other out. But through this time, I’ve realized that that is not the case. I’ve realized that there is a fine line between complementary and utterly destructive. Everything seemed so perfect for so long, even more so than the typical “honeymoon phase” that every new couple feels. Everything was wonderful, exciting yet even-keeled, we were always caught up in the amazing moment, yet sensible. What happened? When did everything go bad?

I need this drug. My body craves you, but I know that I cannot sustain life if I continue using. I know that if I allow myself to fall into the addiction, that that will be become bigger than me. And the longer that we continue to be complacent, being “good enough,” we’ll never find that person who excites us every day, who makes us feel awed regularly. I just need that one last high…it seems so much easier. I hate the heart palpitations, waking up with the cold sweats, the aches all over my body. I need to kick this habit. I need to quit, cold turkey. If I don’t, this addiction will devour me.