Hit and Run.

Have you ever held on to something because it was so close to that actual something you've always wanted? A temporary substitution, you easily convinced yourself would be well worth the risk of the painful coming down effects once it was time to let it go. He came with a warning label, you so gladly ignored. Gladly, but careless.
I'm almost out of his drug. Only a few pills left. If only I had read the warning label, then I would have known how hard it would be to let this prolonged fix go. The warning label would have read, he will hold you. He will make you laugh. He will remind you what it is to feel love. He will remind you what it feels like to be in love. He will sing to you. He will lay his heavy body blanketing yours, look you in the eyes, stroke your hair, and make love to you. I want to renew my prescription Doctor.
I can only hope he races through my veins, and out of my heart as fast as he raced into it. Can I get dialysis for this? Can my stomach be pumped free of all the butterflies who have now turned into moths? Nothing is forever. I have accepted that. I will move on eventually, but not after I've laid in this pile of regurgitated months.
That actual something, I will wait for. Until then I will remain open for another temporary fix.