It’s the drug, he is my addiction. Bad for my health but excites my emotions. Bad for my heart but warms it up, keeps it racing and entices it to have a pinch more… Maintaining the addiction is costly, takes all of my time, takes all of my sanity, drains my emotions and leaves me nursing my injured dignity.
I know him, every bit of him. I know he is not mine, but I still stay. I know he would choose her in a heartbeat, but I still hold on to the illusion that is “Number 1”. Like all the love affairs, this is one brewed right out of hell’s kitchen. The ex-factor, where everything is so much better than it was in the relationship. He is kinder, sweeter, listens more, opens up, holds you tighter, makes love to you gentler but he is married.
He loves you, but loves her too. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you, but spends it legally with the wife. He wants to have children with you, regardless of the 3 darlings in his wife’s house. Promises to leave her and as bad of an idea as it is, you toy with it in your mind. The picket fenced house, the son playing by the pool, the twins braiding each other. It’s a perfect picture, only he is not there, maybe with a younger version of me. But I still stay… why?
I have heard it over and over, “Go to rehab!!” but I say “No! No! No!”.
“He doesn’t love you!!”, “But he needs me…” I retort.
With every help volunteered, I ignore it as I keep frying myself, readying myself for the roast.
But what can I do, I’m a girl in love, and he is a man in lust… silly me. I draw my pros and cons, as I evaluate my goals in life. I tell myself I do not need him, I draw up a speech that convinces my reflection as I rehearse it over and over. “I’m leaving, and there is nothing you can do about it. I know you love her, not me, so stop toying with my emotions and let me be!” I’m convinced!
Then it happens, a text message. “I miss you; I can’t stop thinking about you. Can I come over?” I convince myself again, I can do this, I can tell him no, but before I know it my fingers deceive me and write a blatant ‘yes’.
He knocks and before I can use my speech, sweeps me off my feet, whispering sweet promises trapping me like a helpless bee. He kisses me here, touches me there, and as we climax he tells me he loves me. I give in, and I’m stuck in the same old cycle again.
Doing the drug again, harder than before…as it kills me softly.