Was I addicted to the pain that was brought to me? or was I just afraid of letting it go? I knew I had to do something to fight it back.. I just couldn’t. My life had been torn to pieces. It had been shredded apart. Wasn’t this my life plan? Where did I go wrong? I lost myself. Where was i gonna go next? I panicked. I wanted to be there, but I knew it was the end to it. Please! let me stay! I couldn’t. They wouldn’t let me. They were afraid. Afraid of losing me again. I was alive, wasn’t that enough for them? Jesus Christ. I didn’t want to go back. This city was no longer mine, there was sadness written on every corner. Where did they all go? My friends, my lovers, my family? I had lost them.. or had they lost me? I hated myself. Every bit of me. Was I an addict? To the pain? to the drugs? to the sex? What was it about me that had haunted me to act this way? Why did I change? Not only physically, but emotionally.. I was ruined. I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. It was another person, with a vague resemblance to me. So I thought.. and I asked myself.. Is it me? or is it you? who are you? I was losing my mind. Or maybe I had already lost it, somewhere between me driving in a cab, and doing drugs with a guy I barely knew in his apartment. Somewhere in between. I didn’t regret everything I did.. for some things, I longed for, and somethings I had great memories. Although, I regretted some nights, those lonely nights of anger and despair. i had become addicted to the emotional crack pipe. I had to let go.