you can taste it. it's like blood between your teeth.
your mouth waters by just the thought of it. you have to lick your lips because they're dry and cracking.
your fingers drum along anything they touch because you just don't know what to do when they're empty.
your head pounds. it's like someone is repetitively exploding fire crackers in your skull.
nothing helps; only when you get it back will it go away.
you feel sluggish. gravity has tripled and it's pulling you down.
down.
down.
down.
your lungs are empty. the air you slowly breathe in has to crawl it's way back out of your lungs.
you're irritable. you could bite the head off of the next person who says a word to you.
you don't mean it.
you can't help it.
you're desperate.
you didn't ask to feel this way. if you would have known this is what came with it, you never would have gotten yourself in so deep.
and now you have to slowly dig your way back out.
slowly but surely.
getting over this will be the hardest thing in the world for you to do.
but that's why they call it an addiction.