Addict In Black ✔

Chapter Thirty-Six

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: 5-SHOTS

Sometimes Love can mean an addiction for hurt.
-Ira N. Barin

Micah's

I lied when I told AJ she wasn't in my head.

The tiny deity is in my head. Always she's there, sometimes nagging me about being nice and taking care of myself. The sound of her giggles playing over and over again whenever I get lost in thought, her voice telling me to look for butterflies. Her eyes, flashing across my vision whenever I see something that makes me want to do drugs -looking like she always does; hopeful.

Personally I think Artemis is a very rare kind of person. One that's rare to meet, rare to know and even rarer to be loved by.

Me?

I don't think I'm on of those people.

Sometimes I feel bad, as if I'm using her. Not a single woman should have to be a rehabilitation center for badly raised men. Especially not my girl.

She doesn't deserve this -I don't deserve her.

I'm barely a human as it is, let alone a good one.

And I don't know how to convince her any different.

First I was dying to be loved by my parents by getting good grades. 

Then I was dying to keep my grades up and finish high school, then I was dying to finish high school without drugs, then I was dying because of the drugs and waiting for it to wear off so I could get back to work, then when I was at work I was dying to get to drugs. 

And then I was waiting to die and realized I forgot how to live. 

Forgot even, that I wanted to live.

That I was supposed to.

But that little Goddess, she's teaching me how to live. How not to need drugs, how not to need my parents approval and deal with school when it overwhelms me.

Her eyes can make me stop dead in my tracks and think about everything around me, only everything is suddenly her. She can make me think about what I'm about to say and regret the things I didn't. Sometimes late at night when she laughs I can't help but to tense up thinking about never hearing it again. Her voice can calm my panic attacks and her arms can hold me when I'm crying without making me flinch. When she smiles at me my chest caves in with the feeling of relief.

Yelling at her even that once during that argument made my throat burn like I just downed 5 shots of tequila.

I'm in love with her.

I want to spend the rest of my life with her -having spontaneous nights eating cereal on the floor when there is a perfectly fine table behind us and real food in the fridge. I want to hold hands and go on walks and always end up back at home in the bathtub together. I want to be able to go into the movie theater and kiss like two kids falling in love all over again no matter how old we are or how many times we've already fallen in love. I want to paint the rooms of our house new colors every year and laugh when it drips on the floor and get paint in each other's hair as we play fight each other. I want to slow dance in the kitchen at three am making cookies and make out on our unmade bed.

I want all the corny normal stuff with her -cheesy vows at a black-tie wedding where she walks down the isle to stand next to me. I want to have kids and try to pick the perfect names only to realize when they're five and we start taking them to school that their names are weird. That nothing is perfect. I want to wrap my arms around her every day of my life and never regret it. I want to start a life and build a career and support each other. I want to watch as we both grow old and never stop complimenting her because there's no chance she won't age well. I want to buy a house with a white fence and a yard and little flower garden for her in the back.