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MY NAME IS _______, AND I AM AN ADDICT. JONATHAN GOH
There was a dark honeyed taste that sought me out, a kink that demanded to be felt. Inquisitive wisps of attention flitted about the edges of my senses, remnants from people glancing at us. They were crisp flashes, melting away quickly. It was a cocktail, and far from virginal. Want was a loop that fed back upon itself, a mist that enveloped me in its warmth. I sank deep into it, and the boy followed me in.
I can barely recall what happened next. No, that’ s not true. I remember it. Admitting it is a different beast. I’ m not proud of who I am when I’ m high. I’ m not sure if I can stop being that person. I guess that’ s why I’ m here. To try.
When I’ m with someone, I become their whole world. They want me more than anything they’ ve ever wanted. The longer I stay, the worse it gets. like cracks in a vase. I left him at midnight in the alley behind the bar. A dash is delectable, you see, but too much from the same source and you get numb.
His fingers clutched at mine, but they were uncoordinated and weak, and I stepped away. There were other scents in the air, fresher trials that demanded my attention. I didn’ t look back.
I read about him in the paper. They called him a drunk that ran in the way of a car. I can’ t say that I was surprised. They always break when I leave. In my more selfish moments, I’ m thankful that my mistakes solve themselves. It’ s easier, to never have to see them again. If I’ m lucky, I don’ t even find out what happens to them.
It’ s nice to be desired. I want it so, so much. But still. I don’ t kill them. I don’ t. I don’ t kill.
But still.
How does it go again? One, we are powerless over adcition and our lives are unmanageable. Two, we are not responsible for our disease, we are responsible for our recovery. Three, we can no longer blame people, places, and things for our addiction. We must face our problems and our feelings. The ultimate weapon for recovery is the recovering addict. Thank you for hearing me.