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Addiction

A blanket was pulled over his head and he was being suffocated… that’s what he felt like anyway. There really was no blanket and he would have been able to breathe perfectly if only he could figure out how.

He felt sweat form at the base of his neck and under his arms, as well as his forehead and back. More sooner then later his white tee-shirt felt damp as he paced the darkened living room over and over again. He couldn’t quite focus on one thought long enough for it to be coherent. His racing mind was the least of his problems though. The urge surging through his veins was far worse because of the dull ache that grew by the second as he avoided the table where a quarter sized pile of white powder, he used to call his ‘friend’, was.

It was tempting. It was painful, it took every thing he could find to keep his hand away…it took her. Eve. he would lose her if he continued down the same path, a path where all the drugs and alcohol would take him. But, he reasoned, he didn’t ‘have’ her anyway…he really had nothing loose…

He stopped walking and rested his eyes upon the cherry oak coffee table. He seemed to have sat down on the couch in front of it, although he didn’t remember doing so… His hands trembled and his knees shook together. He reached out his hand finally deciding to fuck it all to Hell. He couldn’t help himself. He just hoped that she would understand.

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