The Art of Letting You Go

I've heard of being dependent on a person, but never on the feeling a person gives you. Was it his soft and kiss-able skin, or the mysterious walls he had built around himself? Perhaps it was how he managed to spike a certain nervousness in the bottom of my stomach, while also comforting me in ways I didn't know I needed. Either way, I knew I was addicted. I knew it wasn't healthy, but all I wanted was more.