Strange addiction 🤍

"Are you even over him?" My sister asks!

"How would I tell that am over him. How should I feel rather?"

"I don't understand either. But the way you stared at his side, just something about how you looked at him."

"It's all in your mind Lex. I think am over him."

   But was I really over him? Even the slightest inch of trying to forget him or push him behind my mind for atleast a second. The fact that I thought about him more, now that we were not together, then when we were together freaked me out. Honestly it did. Are there like pills to get over someone? I swear I'd trade my organs for atleast a half day dose. 

   My therapist would easily call my situation a strange addiction. I would nod and then stop suddenly and maybe exclaim, "Strange huh!" 

   "Is it strange to feel someone so strongly or what?"

   "It is strange that you are no longer together and you have all these fresh feelings for him."

    I was addicted no lie. His smell, I remember the first time I walked past him I felt I needed to know him. How can you smell so good and look so good all at once? I was addicted to his rusty voice. Not just in the morning but all the time. God! His voice was ever lazy or rusty. I was addicted to his messy hair, huge palms, huge body, addicted to his clothes as if they were mine! Why sleep in your clothes while I could sleep in his or less lie on his body naked my skin on his! I was addicted, to how he held his brushes with his left hand while doing his painting. Addicted to how carelessly he let me turn him on in the middle of his art work. There in that tiny room where he spent his days.

    It is one thing to fall in love and another to fall in love with a painter and a writer. One thing to know that he is the one for you and another to actually tell that he is your whole world all at together. Corey was my home, my everything, my pet, my human my sky, my all in one. My undescribable charm, just mine. And by world I would see everything that ever existed through his eyes. His green eyes! I never felt like I needed to be anywhere else in the world when I just sat there in his woolen sweater, staring at him making pancakes at 2am, in the middle of us watching Titanic, just because my stomach grumbled. I saw all cities of the world , galaxies, the whole sky, seas, the sun, deserts, forests, everything there is in the world, was either built in his body, or his soul, or in any painting he did. And on bad days, Corey, my Corey, saw me through them second by second, step by step until the day was dark and the stars were up and I was wrapped around his arms like I was home. I swear everything stopped to exist when I came breath to breath close with him. 

    But hey, slowly by slowly, day by day, I started noticing this attitude, this side of him. This miserable wanting to say, I need space, but he couldn't really say it. Was I too much? I began to wonder. His eyes seemed so far away. Not playful anymore. Just stern and kind of cold. How was I supposed to deal with that sudden shift of everything. Was I the problem? I had questions. Loads and loads of them. But asking them only stirred the little fine air between us. No more movies, no more sex in his work room and I knew it was time to leave! But I didn't. I held on until he began sleeping on the couch. Ouch! I could not place my fault. I left. Eventually.

    I moved to another city, another apartment, empty as hell with only ghosts and shadows of Corey, walking around and touching me from time to time. He lost my number and I couldn't reach him, not even leave a message. Sad? I know. Had I reached the end, my end, his end, the end of the world? Stepping out of his house felt like stepping out of some amniotic, tranquil space, to an empty, strange, dark space. And that is how I felt ever since. Like it was the end of the world. Everything I had seen in him, the cities of the world, the sky, the galaxies, the stars, the seas and oceans, the sun they all came falling, collapsing on my face, before they could land on me, I knew so well that I should have taken my life away, but I let them land anyway, I let it hurt until it would stop, but did it stop? It keeps hurting, it keeps crumbling on me, my world, my Corey, and I rested in his chaos, I  still am. Is he with someone else? The thought of it simply makes me wanna slit my throat, or easier pull my mind out. Where do we go when the world ends on us? Is this floating on chaos some transition to some next life, another life with Corey? Or do we decay? And will I decay in his memory too?