Is this what addiction feels like?
It’s been three days.
But my body hungers for it as though it’s been years.
I dig my bitten fingernails into my knees to stop it from its slight twitch. My teeth start clenching as I reflected on the adrenaline rush of just one more relapse. One more couldn’t hurt right? Just one and I’ll stop.
Fuck, that’s what I always say. I know I’m not supposed to. I know it’s bad for me. My body’s grown weak from the constant abuse, but even the smallest memory of that euphoria gives me a seductive heavy breathing. I want it. I’m craving it with every breath I draw. I feel the sudden thirst.
It’s done. I can’t stop myself, yet I keep shaking my head in disproval. But I want that sweat and I want to scratch the incessant itch. I feel weak, but I tell myself its okay.
Its just one more time and I’ll stop. I’ll recover before doing it again.
My heart starts beating with the bass of my headphones and I feel liberated though my delicate cough interrupts my pace. But I need to run. It’s my daily routine. Even if I’m sick, I’ll keep running.