Addiction (or What I Cannot Have)

I’m so jealous that I can’t think straight and I don’t even know if it’s jealousy really but I know I ache for places that you’ve been or seen like bridges and oceans and people who get to hold you or feel you when I never will. My hands shake with wanting and your face wells up in my memory invading my day so much so that I can’t concentrate on all these things that need to be done. Maybe I’m addicted. No. It’s clear that I am because I can’t stop checking and asking and writing all these things that cannot be stopped as much as I know they should. I am unable to quell my curiosity or to say no to one more glance, one more look at what will never be mine. I wish there were meetings for people addicted to other people because I could finally talk about this problem, this unhealthy obsession with going back. This is my only place to speak and no one ever talks back.

15 thoughts on “Addiction (or What I Cannot Have)

  1. You sure do have a way of tying it all together with a “punch” in the last line. Love everything about this one. (And, by the way, can relate. Maybe not right at this point in life, but I have definitely been in this place before.)

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Pingback: Best of Writing 201: Poetry (according to no one important) | I'd rather sit on the couch

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