I used to get asked if I’d ever been in love. Ever gotten that rush of adrenalin - just from being in the same room as someone. And I told them that I had been, because I thought that I was.
In reality, I was addicted. Locked in on this idea that since you were beautiful, that since I coudln’t take my eyes off you - you were good for me. I would fantasize over you so much so; that I was ignorant to the fact that we were the modern day Joker and Harley Quinn.
How you were controlling and abusive and only loving when it worked towards your benefits. And I, driven mad, only focused on you. We syncronized together so well as if our entire lives were some sort of dance; If you moved, I moved. And vice-versa.
Because, even if you didn’t love me - you fed off of my spirit. My lion-hearted ways and careless actions made you feel alive. Adrenaline rushed through your body, from the tip of your toes to the crown of your head…everytime I whispered your name.
And I mistook salt for sugar. Seeing your druken kisses and greedy hands as actions of love. Your cold eyes for the gates to your soul. I was blind to the fact that you were destroying me from the inside out. Planting yourself deep within my chest, then slowing pulsing through my viens - until you had poisoned my entire bloodstream.
I became dependent on your every breath. Trading oxygen for the taste of your lips.
But, two people can only fuel themselves on one soul for so long.
And I began to deteriorate.
Half on the brink of insanity, I spent sleepless nights with empty bottles and smoked filled lungs waiting to breath into you. Letting myself lay to ruin, while you took in twice your air.
And then, when I was too worn out, you threw me to the waters. Leaving a half-sane girl with a fucked up idea of what being in love feels like.
— Drawn on smiles - excerpt from the book I’ll never write