It doesn’t matter if it’s one month or five.
You’ll get the urge.
That ache in your chest for that quick fix.
That bliss.
You’ll long for it the way a sailor longs for the sea
The way a dog pines for a treat.
You’ll get the urge
And you’ll want to give in
By God, you will want to give in.
You won’t be able to stop thinking about it.
Stop wanting.
You’ll ache for it.
Crave it more than you crave your next breath.
Five months, eight, it’ll come again.
That ache.
That urge
That thirst for release.
You’ll push it away.
You’ll tell yourself you’re stronger.
One year, Eighteen months
It’ll still come, late at night or when your chest gets tight.
When it all gets to be too much and you yearn for just that little reprieve.
You’ve been good for so long, would it really hurt so much to digress just this once?
It doesn’t get easier
The cravings don’t get any weaker
The aches don’t hurt any less
You don’t get any stronger
You just get used to the relentless beat of want in your chest.
The monotonous reminder of your drug
Your heaven
Your escape
That you can never taste again.
And eventually, you wake up and realize
It’s been eighteen months.
It’s been a year.
You can make it.
You can live with the ache in your chest and the longing.
You can make it your armor.
So make it your standard.
Make it your shield.
Make it the foundation for your life.