Cant shake it...
Dating someone can be compared to the addiction one faces by using a narcotic.
First, you find that there is this love affair, this glorious high. It lasts for months, maybe a year or two, but slowly, the more you get, the more you indulge and become dependent upon it to satisfy some emotional or mental need. Thus, you begin the true affair. You have your first bad high, ending in with gun fire, poison darts and torpedoes. But you cant stop. You tell yourself that it was only that one time, that many more times which mimic the beautiful, ghostly highs of the past will return if you treat it right, if you do it at the right time, involving the right circumstance. But it never returns to you as gloriously as it did in the beginning. It knows that you need it. It camps out in your brain and penetrates every thought, every action, turning your reality upside down. It claws at your common sense and you don't remember what it was like to entertain a normal conversation. Soon, the high goes sour for nearly every time you get your hands on it and you realize that its killing you. Its killing you and you don't care because on some psychological and subconscious level, you need it. You crave it like a starving child craves food and a thirsting person craves water. It becomes nearly carnal, where desire is driven by the sinew which holds your aching body together. You must have it, no matter the cost. But, you do much in your state of disorientation which would contradict your desire. You abuse others and lie to get what you want, only to have it tear you limb from limb. In the end, you know that you must let it go. If you want to live, if you want to feel again, you must let it go.
And letting go is the hardest thing to do.
Its strange when your mind decides it knows the correct line of action, but your body and your heart tell you that you are a lying, cheating bastard. I thought I could get over it, that I would be able to look at other highs similarly, but none holds the grip like the one I kicked. Secretly, deep down inside, my inner voice is screaming for just one more high. Give it to me, if only for one last moment, so I don't leave feeling like a failure, deflated of any worth or humanity. Give to me the dignity you stole, the sense you set free and the control I had over my life. Let me love you again for one last moment...
As with the kiss of life would breath my kiss of death.
First, you find that there is this love affair, this glorious high. It lasts for months, maybe a year or two, but slowly, the more you get, the more you indulge and become dependent upon it to satisfy some emotional or mental need. Thus, you begin the true affair. You have your first bad high, ending in with gun fire, poison darts and torpedoes. But you cant stop. You tell yourself that it was only that one time, that many more times which mimic the beautiful, ghostly highs of the past will return if you treat it right, if you do it at the right time, involving the right circumstance. But it never returns to you as gloriously as it did in the beginning. It knows that you need it. It camps out in your brain and penetrates every thought, every action, turning your reality upside down. It claws at your common sense and you don't remember what it was like to entertain a normal conversation. Soon, the high goes sour for nearly every time you get your hands on it and you realize that its killing you. Its killing you and you don't care because on some psychological and subconscious level, you need it. You crave it like a starving child craves food and a thirsting person craves water. It becomes nearly carnal, where desire is driven by the sinew which holds your aching body together. You must have it, no matter the cost. But, you do much in your state of disorientation which would contradict your desire. You abuse others and lie to get what you want, only to have it tear you limb from limb. In the end, you know that you must let it go. If you want to live, if you want to feel again, you must let it go.
And letting go is the hardest thing to do.
Its strange when your mind decides it knows the correct line of action, but your body and your heart tell you that you are a lying, cheating bastard. I thought I could get over it, that I would be able to look at other highs similarly, but none holds the grip like the one I kicked. Secretly, deep down inside, my inner voice is screaming for just one more high. Give it to me, if only for one last moment, so I don't leave feeling like a failure, deflated of any worth or humanity. Give to me the dignity you stole, the sense you set free and the control I had over my life. Let me love you again for one last moment...
As with the kiss of life would breath my kiss of death.