‘A’ for Addiction

‘A’ is for addiction, for I’m addicted to her essence. Never has there been and never will there be one whose beauty could brush the soles of her feet. I felt like a shadow sometimes, without a reality of my own, so I ran, so that finally I could recognize my existence.

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It was happening again.

I stopped breathing when I noticed the monument lain before me; the object of the addiction I had spent years fighting. “This wasn’t supposed to happen”, I thought. I realize now that it was all my fault, but then wasn’t it always?

I relaxed, and smiled, so, once again I would take part in this holy poison, knowing that I was privileged to be able to do so again. Memories of previous encounters with this deadly creation began to rise as if they flowed from the screen of my laptop itself.

Getting over an ex can be hard sometimes, right? I’ve heard it said on more than a few instances how people suffer weeks, even months of depression, trying to get past an invisible wall. But what if it wasn’t an ex?

What if it was a friend, enchanting and deadly in equal measure? Her words but quotes, from a holy book that was engraved on your soul. You found her terrifying, this friend, for she held a humbling power that brought you to your knees.

My friend is a teacher whose influence I would never escape.

She taught me that glasses maketh beauty. A girl with glasses beats a girl without glasses. A fundamental law of the world she had created.

She’s the reason I was (am) only attracted to dark-skinned people, I think I was only looking for another who wears her color.

Because of her, feet were an important part of any impressions I got from strangers. If your feet are as nice as hers were, clean cut toe-nails, seductively moisturized, with just the right amount of wrinkle, then surely we were friends already.

I had an irrepressible fear within, one that was caused from the truth which that there was no other option for me. There would (will) never be another love greater than the one I had (have) for her. Oh, wait, I was supposed to be recovering from my addiction. I pause for a moment to decide, if I will write down her real name or not. Words posses such strength, surely if I write down another one, this would only be someone else’s story, right?

‘A’ is for addiction, for I’m addicted to her essence. Never has there been and never will there be one whose beauty could brush the soles of her feet. I felt like a shadow sometimes, without a reality of my own, so I ran, so that finally I could recognize my existence.

Then all of it was for naught.

A single picture was my undoing. I breathed air no more. My gait was unsteady, I only needed a fix. A touch, a whisper, a sight or sound so I would endure. I needed something, *anything*, or surely I would float away on the spot.

That’s why I picked my phone right there in that library and made a call, just the sound of her breathing would ease my pains, then the phone rang for the longest time, more than a second for sure, but, finally someone picked up.

“A isn’t in the room right now, She’ll be back soon”, I heard; and that’s when all this happened, God.

I was erased from existence right then, leaving only a laptop behind. A picture of a smiling girl remained displayed, surely she must have been you?

I no longer exist in their world, now a phantom, living outside reality.

Still, some addictions conquer existence itself.

That’s why I made my way over to that school, a ghost unseen, as only one purpose remained.

I would bathe in her presence forever, not rejected.

Surely when she dies and goes to heaven, God, I would still be accepted there.

I shiver at the thought of what happens if I’m not, and perhaps they all should shiver right along with me. For if A goes away and leaves me in the darkness…

If her light shines no more in my world,

What would then be my purpose?

Please, just take me away…

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