I just wanted a taste, been so long since I knew that feeling. I told myself I would never again, but who can resist when the opportunity presents itself? It would be rude for me not to, that’s what I told myself, right? No, I know that’s a lie. I wanted it. I’ve wanted it for so long, but know I can’t be trusted. I know what one taste leads to, I know what comes next. No, that’s just the old me talking, I’ve done so much work since then. I can handle a taste, right? Besides, it’s only one night, right?
That’s how it always started. That first taste, always the sweetest. Always the most pure. Then reality always set in, quickly remedied with another hit. No problem, I had it all under control. That’s what I always told myself. Quickly it would wear off, again quickly fixed. The fixes more frequent as I became more broken. Always the need for more. Reality becoming more harsh.
No, stop it. That was the old me. I’m not going to let that happen again. I’m just having one night of indulgence. I’m suspicious of my own thoughts, nothing true should take so much justification, right? Thoughts spinning, afraid of going back. Back to that place where I feel nothing yet fear everything. No, that won’t happen again.
It’s now the next day, and the feeling of guilt lingers. I tell myself I’m ok, it was just a taste. But why do I feel this way? I tell myself I don’t want more, but is that true?
I don’t know if I can handle just a taste.