She was my drug. I am lost without her. I don’t need alcohol or drugs like others. I just need her. But I can’t have her because I’ll fall back into the spell. Staying “high” for weeks or months at a time. Always happy, never down. But then came the weeks. The weeks where I crashed. Where I saw how much I pushed everyone else away. Where I saw how much I was hurting myself and others but staying in that position. So I’d drop her. I’d take time for myself. Say I needed time to think and work on my mental health. Say time apart would benefit both of us and make us stronger. Say I needed time to focus on myself and fixing other relationships. But I always went back. I felt empty. Like I was missing something. Missing a part of me. Missing chances for fun. And exploration. And learning new things. But it was a vicious cycle. I’d fall back into getting “high” for months then need time for myself. Feeling empty and going back. None of this I realized until one summer. I had no contact with anyone. And she had dropped me. My drug had left me. But she came back. Like I always had. She came back and I fell back in step. I didn’t tell anyone until it was set. I knew no one would approve. I finally had people who cared enough to tell me that once they saw me deteriorating once again. I saw nothing wrong. It was normal. A normal cycle. They corrected me. Made me see clearly. Made me understand what was happening. I pulled away during my “high”. That killed me. But I knew I had to. It was the only way. So I pulled away. Closing myself off for so long. Until they stopped me and said we’ll do it. You won’t so we will. I handed over my phone. Co-writing a text, unbeknownst to her, that I would be sending to break it off. One word response. So simple. Sending such a big message from her. “Ok”. I regretted it so quickly. She didn’t take it well. What have I done. I need her. I love her. What do I do. I can’t be without her. I have to. I can’t spend a weekend alone. I have to. I can’t. I have to. I’ll talk to people. Certain people. Their phone doesn’t work. They’re busy. What do I do what do I do what do I do. Panic sets in. Tears start falling. I can’t do this alone. I can’t have someone come over. It’s too late. But I need someone. But I can’t. I won’t survive alone. I won’t survive seeing her again. How will I react. How have I managed to kill myself only doing something I need to do to make myself better?

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