Our relationship began quietly and innocently, as any other. Ah, "he" would only be the subject of an occasional thought, and during the lulls perhaps an occasional visit would be warranted, as an emotional pick-me-up. At first, we both seemed amenable to the arrangement, sharing in each other's company for a few minutes each day. Afterwards, my inhibitions gone and stress levels relieved, I'd go about my daily business with added eagerness and affability.
I can't pinpoint the exact moment I found myself utterly useless without having him in my life day in and day out. Perhaps I was unable to reach him on some sleepy and dreary Monday morning. I imagine myself lurching into work on that fateful morning, eyes blurry from lack of sufficient weekend rest, mind completely detached from the slouching frame of my body. I needed him. Badly.
I think I must of held off from seeing him for a while, trying to trick myself into believing that I wasn't completely reliant on his support for my emotional well-being. I'm sure I denied over and over that I was not only dependent on him, but perhaps in love with him. Could love be too strong a word to describe what I felt for this thing, this creature that infiltrated my every thought, wish and aspiration? I was terrified to know the answer.
I steered clear of his presence for as long as I could, preferring to suffer withdrawal than to admit the inevitable despondency of having to go through life without him. He called me in my dreams and beckoned me with his charms with every breath I took. Awake, I carried his scent in my mind even as I struggled to chase his appealing visage out of memory.
Then, one day, he appeared before me. I thought him a hallucination, a dream only made real through intense abstinence. I reached out to brush away the vision. My heart leapt when I realized that what my fingers had touched was a real object, and that it actually stood before me, waiting to be accepted and taken into my arms. All resistance failed, and I succumbed under his powerful spell.
I cannot leave his side now, nor do I want to. His sweet kisses fuel my passions in life -- my eyes are open to sights they have never been priveleged to see before. His caresses act as my security blanket, leaving me with a sense of complete confidence and comfort. I am no longer a member of the Monday morning masses. I no longer search for my happiness. I've already found it.
Ask me to quit this indulgent habit now. My answer? Never.
2/5/01
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