Saying goodbye was only half the battle.
It was coping with the thought that I was over you that was hardest to deal with.
Withdrawals came everyday.
And every single one hurt like hell.
I still have scars from the needles; my lungs still have stains from the smoke; but I'm empty.
My hands still twitch at the thought of you. I still scratch when I smell your scent in my clothes.
I don't understand why my heart hasn't stopped in my sleep whilst dreaming of you.
I've been staring at your contact in my phone, hoping that you've changed your number so the emotional distance between us was further than physical.
It was safer this way. It didn't help the pain of the withdrawals, but it got them over with quicker.
Even with the scars and bruises and stains, 15 months later, for the first time since I last felt your hands on me, I didn't feel like I was slowly dying.
But 15 months later, I lost my grip on what was real, and what your drug made me see.
YOU ARE READING
Addicted z.m
FanficLittle did she know that under that hard gaze and those masked eyes was a heart broken by the single pull of a trigger; the single cease of a beating heart. "No amount of nicotine in my system could compare to the addiction I have for you."
