10 days

Addicted.

I should have begun writing this ten days ago.
240 hours prior to my fingertips gliding across this keyboard.
how microscopic that number is on the grand scale of a lifetime.
how infinite that number is when you are battling a demon.

How courteous of me, to let this demon live rent-free in the crevices of my brain chemistry.
How utterly generous, to allow him to eat my thoughts and share my sheets.
What a toxic relationship we have, my dear.
I give you all of me, everything, and you take it ungratefully.

I met you when I was only 12 years old and I have loved you unconditionally.
You stole from me. You robbed my family, friends, and people who will never get to know me.
What a disgusting favor to get in return for all I have sacrificed for you.

But still, you take.
You take my relationships with anybody other than you.
Selfish.
You take anything of monetary value and light it on fire.
Careless.
You take anything I have worked tirelessly to achieve.
Demanding.

You toss me on the floor and leave me there to die.
You make me do unspeakable things that I push to the back of my mind.
You do all of this, and I return. Again and again.
Because that's what addicts do.

A decade and a half of knowing you.
That is how long it took me to grow the courage to say goodbye.
All of the things you have destroyed.
Yet, still, I grieve you.

I think of all of the events we will no longer attend together,
and all of our friends who will no longer see us.
This is a messy break-up,
one that people are sure to take sides.

I think of all of the memories,
even the ones you robbed of me.
I think of you consoling me when I had nobody else because you took them from me.
What a controlling partner you are.

You demand my attention, even after I've said my goodbyes.
Ten days without you feels like a lifetime.

But you will not miss me the way I will crave you.
You will not blink an eye.
You will find your next victim.
You will hope they wont survive.

You don't pick people off the ground, sweetheart.
You don't pick people off of the ground.
You put them there.
And you leave them to die.

How sweet another day becomes when you have lived in the arms of darkness for so long.
What will my life be without you?
What will I turn to when I don't have you to numb my every emotion.
Well, cheers to finding that out.

There is power in rock bottom.
The power I can not find at the end of your bottle.

So here is to all of my exes: Jack, Jim, Jose.
Alcohol, I may have consumed you,
But you consumed me for the last time.