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.

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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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