He’s so much like smoking that it’s scary. I’ve quit him a million times, and yet, all it takes is one moment of stress, one memory of happiness, and I’m off the wagon. I call him, and then I’m stuck calling him. His easy jokes, his shared memory of the past 5 years, it's instantly addicting. I know, with every warning label reinforcing it, that he is bad for me. Warning: Will prioritize everything else in his life before you. Warning: You’re his first love and he will never fully let you go. Warning: This ex boyfriend will be the death of you. But I just read these warnings, fully understood by myself, and keep puffing away.
Maybe, this time, we will have grown up enough to know our limits. Maybe this time I can just call him once a week, as a reward for working two jobs. It will only be this one call to tell him something funny that reminded me of him. But it's never just one.
But tonight, after slowly weaning myself, I quit cold turkey. I told him, "look, you're no good for me. If we're not going to be in a relationship, then we're friends, and I don't need a friend like you." I'm proud of myself, but I can't help but wonder if this will be the end of my nasty habit, or if, in some time of stress or sadness, I'll end up caving- once again looking for my crutch.
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