Who needs drugs when emotions can mess you up just the same? It's ironic, really—after everything, I still crave comfort from the very person who's caused me so much pain. I want him close, even though I know he's chosen someone else. It doesn't make sense, but that's the thing about feelings, right? They don't care about logic. They just... are.
"Do you still like him? Even now?" Dr. Skyrim had asked, his voice gentle but probing, like he was trying to reach past the walls I'd built up.I could still hear his voice in my head as if he were sitting right here in the room with me."I don't want to," I whispered aloud to the empty room, my fingers tracing the seams of my blanket. "But I do."The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I didn't want to admit it, not even to myself, but the truth was undeniable. My mind raced back to the conversation I had with Dr. Skyrim earlier.I was in my bedroom now, lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to piece together where everything had gone wrong. My thoughts kept circling back to that night—the night I had made the choice I couldn't take back. Sure, I was drunk, but not drunk enough to ignore what was right and what was wrong. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly what I was doing. that night when I started my relation with himI sighed, rolling over in bed, curling up with my knees to my chest. The weight of it all was suffocating, like I was drowning in my own mistakes.I grabbed the bottle of whiskey I'd hidden beneath the bed, the one I used to try and numb the pain, and took another sip. I knew it wouldn't dull anything. It never did. But I did it anyway. Anything to escape this feeling. Anything to make the ache in my chest go away, even if just for a few minutes.But it never did. The numbness always wore off too soon.I could still hear Dr. Skyrim's voice in my head, calm and patient, as he tried to make sense of it all. "You're overthinking," he'd said. "Your mind is running in circles, replaying everything, imagining all the what-ifs. You can't keep blaming yourself for someone else's failure to love you the way you deserve."I took another swig, hoping it would help. But nothing ever really helped.I tried to convince myself that I could move on, that I should. But deep down, I knew I couldn't. The pain wasn't something you could just push aside. It clung to you, stuck in your veins like poison. And no matter how much I wanted to forget him, to stop caring, it wasn't that simple. Not when my heart still craved what I couldn't have.It's like I was trapped in a loop, unable to escape the grip of my own feelings. And even though I knew it was hurting me, I couldn't seem to stop. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the image of him—the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel alive, even if it was only for a fleeting moment.I took another drink, hoping this time would be different. But it never was.