Heat radiated from her skin with each memory of his touch. She grinned as she heard the ruffling of the sheets as he moved. With her back towards him, she felt his arm slink around her waist. The bed slightly rocked with his movement. His deep baritone sounded off, “So what are you about to do?” Her smile slowly faded as she took her cue with minimal conversation. She found herself exiting his apartment, as her mind went a mile a minute. She came to the conclusion that this was the last time.
Days tuned to weeks and that last time was her last time, but at this point she didn’t think it was by choice. 11:47pm. Her phone nearly buzzed off the nightstand, and his name illuminated across the screen. With what she wanted to believe was a long drawn, hesitated reaction, she answered. The anticipation of the content of the conversation sent shock waves rippling through her spine. His voice rang out, “Come over, I want to see you.” She didn’t even recall her dress and travel, as she found herself facing that oh so familiar apartment door. With heat radiating from her skin…
Addiction. Just like any other addiction, there is a sort of adrenaline rush involved. In this instance there is a dire need for the anticipation just before she see’s or speak to this man. Unbeknownst to her, and most of women in these sort of situationships, it is not that man at the root of the addiction but the feeling we get just before the encounter. The excitement. The longing for the moment just before we lay eyes on him. The rush of knowing the risk-assumed behavior we are indulging in. Risking your vulnerability, and even more. With risk comes reward, right? Maybe. Maybe not.
When you walk up to a black jack dealer, do you know for sure you are leaving with what you are investing in the game? And even if you don’t win that day, you may just go back. Why are you going back? For the adrenaline you get when you sit down at the slot machines and you reach for the handle. For the moment you have all the lucky numbers and you are just waiting for that last digit to hit. That feeling…until that feeling is gone because your weren’t that lucky that time so you decide to finally walk away.
But then…someone else sits at your machine and that jackpot you so badly thought was yours now belongs to them. Chin up young lady, that jackpot was never yours to win. Self control is the lesson in addiction.