It’s not that easy to describe this addiction. The type of addiction that results in codependency. The type of addiction that reels its beautiful self at least twice a month on Tuesdays. Two blue cosmos, even though I said I would stop drinking. Even though I said it doesn’t always have to begin this way but smile under the terrible lightning of this bar. I love the way you taste. Tickling the back of my throat each time we meet. What’s better than this? What better way to enjoy our time than to a toast for each rendezvous that’s given? What did we call this again, survival? That’s right. Because we love love and we love who we love but the love carried in the middle of the night weighs far more than the love we cherish in the light. I wouldn’t say it’s the taboo of it, I think it’s a little deeper than that. The thrill of the act is gone and what’s left is pure, raw, unfiltered lust at the tips of our tongues. So we, continue to fill our glasses to the rim and carry on pointless conversation just as foreplay. And we sit back in the moments and playfully wonder what it would be like to escape together into a world where we don’t have to sit back and ponder on such trivial things. It would be as simple as taking a walk in the park on warm fall day, watching the leaves change and slowly wither off branches. Timeless, would be our word. No restraints. No curfews. A world without limitations. Easily can be created but where’s the fun in that? What fun is getting everything you want? Even if I had you, you don’t think I would want more? We live dangerously for perspective purposes only, constantly in battle on whether or not this is all real. I mean why else would anybody want to love? The addiction is not easy to describe, in the sense of why the addiction begins. Sometimes the feeling of helplessness, being at the mercy of something is more powerful than one thinks, but we can get to that another time.
Here’s a toast, to a lover so divine, that I’d risk it all to have another night beneath you.