Moving On: The Finale of the Story of a Recovering Addict

Note: This was totally unplanned (the sequence of these poems). I don't know what the hell got me to writing about recovering from love in the first place. Kinda glad I did, though. Even with that, I don't wanna write about it anymore :). At least, not at the moment. I'm gonna stop the madness with this poem, and move forward.

It's finally come to this; must admit, I never thought it would end this way. In the movies, there's usually a happy ending, but this is a completely different script, and an entirely different day.

Went from amazing highs to lonely nights, unimaginable joys to unbearable sights; went from smiles to frowns, from smirks to scowls, from laughing to sighing, and from recovering to relapsing...

Went from excessive withdrawals to having it right in front of me on a plate; just to have it yanked away, and returned to my original fate...

There's no storybook ending when it comes to love; no medications to treat its symptoms and the possibility of it spreading and taking effect in your life; only the hope of another day to get yourself through. In the meantime, I'll continue to do that: just live, and be reminded of the feelings I get from simply being in the presence...of you.

1/14/07 @ 8:05 P.M.

Photo by Clifton Henri