The Worst Addiction

Toys and Drinking

    How do you know if you've gone absolutely mad? Do you wait until you're thrown away like the rest of the people who have lost their head, or does your doctor tell you that you need help? I hoped that it wasn't your friends who had to tell you, because I didn't have many anymore. They were all gone for the most part, and if I were them I would've done the same. 

     I was scaring myself, and I looked at the bottle of rum in front of me. Drinking was never the answer. That's what plenty people would tell you. Others might say it's the only way out, and their only escape. I shook my head, and placed the bottle on the small table beside me. I was one of the people who would tell you drinking wasn't the answer, but maybe if you asked me in a few weeks my answer wouldn't be the same. 

    I roamed the city more than I ever used to, constantly walking up and down the filthy streets full of all sorts of people. My eyes never stopped searching for her, and my head wasn't thrilled about what I was doing. Even my heart wasn't sure it could handle this, but my feet kept going, and eye's never gave up. 

    But I couldn't find her today, or the day before. I hadn't seen her for a week. A whole god forsaken worthless week, and that was driving me mad. I had to get her back, and maybe that wasn't fair to her at all but right now I couldn't care less. I was a selfish bastard who needed the girl who'd done this to me to fix me, and if that was a sin then send me to hell. 

   There were plenty of books written on how to get a girl back after you've ruined things left, right, and center, and trust me I'd know. I spent plenty of time wandering the library hoping she might walk in and return the overdue book I knew she had. None of them seemed like they would work in this situation though.

    The thought of her rejection hit me again, and my eyes went back to the bottle but I stopped myself. She was worth drinking myself away, but I wouldn't do it because I needed to be selfish and have her back. I couldn't do that tipsy, drunk, wasted, hung over, or worse. 

     If she did reject me I wasn't sure what I'd do, and it terrified me knowing there was a strong chance she would. I didn't know if she was still seeing him anymore, and even if she was I hoped me begging on my knees at her front door was enough to make her stop. 

     I hated knowing there was another guy out there allowed to touch her the way I used to. My hands were in first so tight my knuckles were pure white as I thought of the things he might do with her. The kinds of things I had done with her. 

    She might not have been mine anymore, but I would always be hers. That's the cruelty of love.  They might get over you like you were nothing more than a toy, and you could find yourself hopeless stuck in love.