Addicted

I need it so badly, and I need to see him, be near him.

I want to find another dealer, but I can’t bring myself to look. I just keep coming back.

I love him. I don’t know if he knows it, but I do. With all of my heart.

I took my first fix to impress him. I don’t care that I’m an addict; it gives me an excuse to see him.

And I do see him. Almost every day.

I let myself fall into the delusion that he loved me too, at first. When we met, in a bar, he gave me some crack. I liked it, of course, and he told me where I could see him and get more.

At first he just scared me, but gradually I started to look forward to going to see him to see him, as well as to get my fix.

I was a virgin. One night I gave that to him, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. But when I woke up the next morning, he handed me about three week’s worth and told me I’d earned it all. I slapped him, but he just laughed and said he’d see me soon.

I held off the stuff for about a week, and then I couldn’t do it any more. It was even better than it had been the first time around.

When I ran out I went back to him, same as I always had before, with my money in my backpack.

He smirked, and told me I didn’t need to give him any money, looking my body over knowingly. I was so tempted to do it.

But I knew that in the four weeks I hadn’t seen him he had probably slept with twenty-eight other girls, one for each night. I couldn’t let it happen again. So I ignored him, and paid with my money. I know he probably offers ever girl who buys from him the same thing.

And it hurts to know I mean nothing to him.

But I need it so badly, and I need to see him, be near him.

We both know I’ll be back tomorrow.