He has currently logged seven weeks clean.
I'm lying on my bed under three different types of blankets. The window is slightly open so the sea breeze can creep across my exposed ankles. I feel nothing. I feel everything. At the same time. I am not sure why my life feels so empty when you arent around. There is a whole, as large as my imagination, picturing you here with me. There is a burning in my brain. It stings with the memory of what it would feel like to have you inside of me. You aren't a lover. You are my drug. I love you despite your abuse. I can't quit you.
I can't go on with you.
I can't go on without you.
Taste the blood.
I bite my tongue in desperation.
Switching from side to side to side.
I cry inside my pillow.
Kicking you one more time.