Need is too tame a word to describe what it feels like.
When I’m awake, I feel incomplete until they give me a reason to feel anything at all. And even then, I don’t feel much, but what I do feel is always enough. At least it’s enough for awhile. I know that I need help, but I don’t know it. I feel lost, so I fall into the same traps again and again in order to know where I am. And that’s the insidious thing about it. The only time I don’t feel lost is when I’m in the middle of being lost.
Pride kept me from admitting that I was powerless. In the end, I had to crash so hard that other people got hurt. The sad truth is that sometimes the only way out is through someone else’s pain. But I warned her. From all the way down the aisle, I screamed at her to get away from them. She didn’t listen, I can only assume because she was as consumed as I was. As I am. As I’ll always be.
She didn’t die. I suppose I should feel lucky, but honestly I don’t feel anything at all. I’m working my way past my insatiable need, this obsession that has ruled my life for so long, but only half-heartedly. I acknowledge that it made me stomp a woman into a coma in order to get at what kept calling to both of us. She muttered something about ‘…doing it for her kids’. Kids don’t deserve their perfection. They can’t appreciate it. I don’t remember when beanie babies became the sun around which my world orbits, but it doesn’t matter. They own me. The bitch had it coming.
For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Lisa challenged me to, ‘Write a story about a character who is addicted to something. It can be a serious piece where they are addicted to something obvious like alcohol or drugs or it can be a fun piece where they are addicted to something strange like McDonald’s Happy Meal Toys. Be as creative as you wish with the addiction!’ I challenged Michael with, ‘You can’t fight genetics’.
Sir @ December 8, 2011