I'M SORRY my depression consumed us. I'm even more sorry yours didn't. If it had we could have been over a lot sooner.
Not that I wanted an end at all. But because that's where we ended up anyways, we might as well have saved us a lot of time. People talk about cherishing or focusing on the good stuff... and let me tell yah, having been outside the good stuff for a while I really wish none of it ever happened. This isn't usual for me. I like to think I'm rather the optimist. But with you babe, I spent all my optimism. This isn't to say I didn't have a blast, feel love more intensely then ever imaginable... that's the issue really. I believed you were my one, my soulmate, twin flame, kindred spirit, partner in crime, better half, companion, lover, any other names I'm missing? Someone I've been with in many lives before this one maybe... (I don't know if I believe that sort of thing anymore, but with you I did.)
I never saw you as my saviour. I was careful at least of that one. So careful in fact that I think I became yours. One can lean so far in one direction you wrap around in a 180' and end up right where you were certain you never would.
You gave me a love like no other, had my Insides Blushing. My hand feeling the most comfortable only when in yours. Hearing your voice made me want to pay attention. You looked at me like I was something bigger than life, something intimidating but not terrifying. But the more I look back on it all the more I think you were just addicted to the comfort I brought you.
1 year sober... and I am just coming to terms that perhaps I was addicted... not to you, but to taking care of you. My love for you exceeded my love for myself. Like a drug you convinced me, that living was worth less if not with you. It went past companionship, but deep within, chemically altering my psychology to believe I existed to serve you. And without that job, I was worthless. A shell of who I was before you, before us. Like booze, you made me into a version of myself that went by another name, sometimes babe, sometimes bitch, never my name. Hayley.
Being with you started bubbly, like a crisp glass of champagne. Sugary enough that I felt hungover the next day but it was worth it. All addictions begin this way don't they? Worth the ugliness they unleash like a dirty secret after the fact. After the pleasure. Staying with you grew into a bender, less bubbly, instead cheap. Some days felt fun, freeing, loose, until you realized the pattern or maybe worse yet didn't recognize it... unsure of what day it was, and how you got this far. Holding on once our love died was like a black out, a sour mix of cheap beer & too many types of liquor. "Beer before liquor never been sicker...".
Blackouts in love always result in -someone- holding a grudge...
My love, you gave me one of life's most addicting pleasures, Dopamine. And damn doesn't she pair nicely with some Serotonin. You mood boosted me into places no pill ever could... unfortunately that meant the lows took me to the absolute wastelands of rock bottom. A place I'd wish to no one... besides maybe you, if I didn't believe you have already been there too.
Withdraw, is all I have left to compare you to... or the lack of you in my life, I suppose. People claim with medications, pills and booze, it's the beginning that's the hardest. I'm curious on the statistics of Heartbreak. On how many die from that? How soon? How long after?... Who relapses into a new flavour, lover. Who never finds one that compares to their last Addiction.
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