STEP ONE, BEGIN FROM ONE.

I fell off the wagon last night.
It was intentional but since I couldn't muster the strength to overcome the temptation then in my defense I'll just say it was unintentional.
Or perhaps claim temporary insanity, I don't want to do the time.
However to my credit of course, I premeditated it, for a day or two. A lot of 'thought' went into it.
Ha! Who I'm I kidding? I wanted it, BAD.
I wanted to crash land, I couldn't stand the suspense, the pain in my stomach like someone had punched me repeatedly and ran off.
The only witness present was me.

Surprisingly, I'd overcome the withdrawal symptoms longer than I'd anticipated, I was actually doing alright.

I even had some sedatives on standby, my plan to sobriety was perfect.
I know by now you think you've figured out my addiction, but hold that thought.

The problem with fighting the good fight is you eventually start giving in, after-all, everyone has a thorn in their flesh to contend with right?
I'm no exception except when I choose to be of course.

Now I'm justifying it.
I think I like it.
It's a part of me now and I don't want to loose it.
I relish the moments when I'm sucked into that big ,black hole pulling me in to a destination unknown.

I fell off the wagon with a big thud, guduf!
Touch, feel, scent, will too strong not strong enough, warmth, sweet nothings....
You've grieved me in so many ways, changed me in so many ways, twists and turns never before done, this endless dance that I cannot understand.

Perhaps I'll dust myself off and start from scratch;
or maybe I'll have one more run, who knows, it might just turn out to be fun!