Rehabilitation

    Inside of me, pressure builds almost like a gas leak; a need dark and insidious, slowly fills up all the cracks and empty spaces, anxiously awaiting the smallest spark to ignite.
      In the shadows I hear it whispering; taunting me with reminders of how good it use to be. My muscles tense as a cool apprehension descends. I know those voices are omitting a lot but still they sound like they could be true?

    Goosebumps speed across my body and I know this feeling isn't one I should entertain. I start to pace, back and forth; I don't know if I'm more afraid that this thought will catch me or that I have a fighting chance... If I keep moving, maybe I can stay in front of it, maybe I won't have to find out – just maybe I can stay in control. One, two, three, four, pivot. I count as I turn round and round to keep me sane; to keep my mind on something other than the thing I don’t want to want. I stop pacing and I start to run. If I run fast enough, maybe it won’t catch me.  Maybe I can leave it behind me, in that place where I was, and not bring it with me, where I’m headed.
    As fast as my legs will carry me, I run into the direction I’m facing; I need to get away; far, far away from it. Away from shady faces that smell my crumbling determination; faces that seem to slither out from the fringes in the encroaching darkness with their knowing eyes, and lying smiles. “Hey girl, haven’t seen you in awhile.  I know what you need…” I can hear their mocking words; I can taste the sweet rush, oh! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! I’ll never make it back again if I give in. There would be no point; Might as well rot, wrapped inside the pleasure of it. I need to get away; I can’t let it take control.
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    My feet slap against the sidewalk  barely registering as I try to push past my burning chest and convoluted feelings. I can’t run much further and I can’t seem to run fast enough to get away. The pressure, like the shadows, is still there- growing; elongating with the setting sun and like a noose is wrapping tighter, more firmly around me.
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    As the day's light slips beneath the horizon I am at my door, fumbling with my keys. My body is weary; I couldn’t run a single step further if I tried, and this desire still sears my veins, despite my effort.  I’ll be safer, tucked away inside, out of sight from the dark corners that know me by name. Maybe, I can lock it outside and sleep will conquer these demons for me, maybe, it could be that easy.
    Maybes echo through my head, as I slam shut and lock the door behind me. I won’t let it in. I won’t let it get the best of me. Not tonight. My body aches from the running and aches even more from the wanting.  I wish I had the willpower to sink down against the door, immovable in my stance; to know that I won’t open it back up, and rush towards my destruction with open arms, but I am afraid that I do not.
    My body trembles with desire as another craving sweeps through me; I clench my fists and clench my jaw. ”No! No! NO!” I want to scream as loudly as possible.  I want to shout, rant, and rave until it goes away.  I want to fight this!
I sprint to the bathroom sink and splash cool water on my face; against the current of thoughts I am ebbing.  “There’s fight left in you yet” I say aloud to convince myself I still have control. But in the mirror, I see more than the water dripping off the end of my nose. I can see the dark invitation of the deceptive rabbit hole waiting for me to slip back inside of it.
I can see the hunger in my hollow eyes, like a starving tiger pacing behind bars, smelling an open wound. I imagine it on its hunches ready to jump, to maul, and to utterly destroy- I stumble back, away from the mirror until I hit the cracked, yellow tiled wall behind me. The pent-up breath I’ve been holding comes rushing out and I start to slide down the wall as tears spill down my face. Desperately, I try grabbing a hold anything, other than this terrible need. I try to focus on my breath; in - out. One, two, three… But it’s not enough. I can feel myself faltering, almost ready to submit, to call it quits. I can feel that yearning, burning in my belly and it is too much. It is too much. How many times can I say no before I finally give in? Why should I say no when it would be so much easier to give in?