​#Page 1 of a book that will never be written…

She sat at the wooden table looking out of ‘Addiction’s’ window. Addiction was a coffee shop and cappuccino was her fix. It was raining outside. It was those soft droplets of rain, the kind that you could stare at for hours, losing yourself in thought, drowning in each drop that hits the ground rippling the puddles. 
First she began by thinking about the weather, how gray and cold and muddy everything would be. Her front yard would be impossible to walk through without ruining her clean toes and pretty silver sandals. She loved the rain. She hated the rain. It was the same with him. She would need to take out a blanket from storage as her feet always froze like a corpse’s on days like these. She wiggled her toes as she stared at them. Then her thoughts filtered to warm feet and foot rubs. She remembered how he would rub her feet to keep them warm. She was insanely ticklish. He knew it and he was merciless when it came to teasing her. Later she learned that he was merciless at almost everything. Next she was thinking of dark hair, his hair, his eyes, his skin, his wrist watch, his everything. She used to love him. She probably still hated him. He was like the rain, she drowned in him whether she wanted to or not. She used to drown in her love for him. Now she drowns in her hate of him. Neither is ever good and drowning in anything is always fatal. 
She remembered everything from the beginning. Perhaps she remembered it so well because she turned the memories on every day, like a turntable swirling around and around. She recalled feelings and thoughts and moments and laughter and conversations and h e a r t a c h e. He made her fall in love, head over heels in love with him. The kind of love that you had no control over. Whether you wanted to or not, you were baited, hooked and reeled in from the start. He claimed to not want a thing in return of her affection. But after he sunk his teeth into her, releasing his delirium, turning her close to insane, he showed her his true shade of Gray, it was the subtle undertone of narcissism. It turns out he wanted everything, like a thief in the night, holding her hostage as he robbed her, slowly stealing everything. Her peace, her smile, her confidence, her friendships, her trust too he took with him. And as she sat there, she filled with a boiling rage! Rage at how easily she let herself go with him, falling for his lies, believing that she was the one, allowing him entry into her heart. 
She sipped the last of her delicious cappuccino, squinting her eyes, flaring her nostrils, muttering the word ‘idiot’ silently. She was referring to herself. 
But we’re all stupid a lot of times aren’t we? 

Its not just her. 

Or are YOU different? 
We believe the liars, we fall for the magicians although we learn very early in life that magic is an illusion and those who believe in it are only fools! 

So we’re fools then I guess. 

So what? 

Should we feel ashamed? 

Should we feel angry? 

Should we feel stupid? 
She knew that she shouldn’t feel any of the above but at times she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t help but to hate him for all that he did to her. All the lies, all the self doubt, all the psychology that he used on her. She couldn’t help but to hate him for discarding her like a worn shoe after he was done with her. 
You feel special until you realize that its not just you, they make everyone feel special too. 
But she couldn’t sit there and think about him anymore. Addiction had lost its cure. Her feet were cold and she needed to get home.


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