There is a man, somewhere, that is about to grab his hair with both hands and nearly rip it out of his skull by the roots because he is having ******* withdrawals after having decided to stop several days ago.
At this very moment, a woman is crying on her porch, her legs drawn to her chest as she mourns the death of her husband the day before by putting a cigarette to her lips for the first time in 3 years, inhaling familiarity.
Tonight, some 20 year old recovering alcoholic put his back to the wall and slowly let himself slide down, sitting with his feet in front of him.
Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he let out a breath he had been holding for 70 days as he felt the accustomed burn of alcohol in his throat.  
Logically, it is easy for me to process these things because as a child, I was thoroughly educated on the addictive chemicals found within drugs and alcoholic drinks.
Yet, I was never taught about the addictive qualities in a person.
I never knew it was physically possible to ache from the soles of my feet to the top of my head because your arms were medicinal for my limbs.
I was not aware that my teeth would begin to chatter when a year had gone by since your finger last ran across my bottom lip.
I was not ready for the nights where I would stay awake until sunrise because I could not sleep without hearing your voice before I closed my eyes.
I may not have injected heroine into my system but you injected love straight into my bloodstream and there is no amount of water that will allow me to wash this out and be clean.
You are a tempting bottle of whiskey that sits in my kitchen every day after I say I'm going to stop drinking,
and even smoking 4 packs a day will not rid me of the withdrawals of the faint smell of cigarettes on your clothes when you were asleep next to me.
If there were a rehab for me to go to, I would go,
because this habit will be a lot harder to break than biting my nails.
-c.g

They say that not all plants can grow where they are planted.
Maybe they don't have enough soil to support them,
or maybe their leaves get crushed and folded together from lack of room.
Or perhaps they are planted in a place where there isn't enough sunlight surrounding them.
In even worst case scenarios, maybe they are a lone daisy in a field of roses,
or maybe they get stepped on before they have a chance to bloom, or barely ******* sprout.
So tell me now, why is it so easy to grab a plant by the stem and rip it out of the dirt where it was first planted if things just aren't working in that plants favor?
Tell me please how it is so simple to get down on your knees and dig your nails into the ground and repeatedly throw the earth over your shoulder and make a new hole for that plant to have a second chance?
I want to know how you can take the roots of that plant, looking like a spider with hundreds of broken legs, and place them in a new hole just to cover them up again in only a matter of minutes.
I want to know why that flower effortlessly got a reversal of fortune.
I want to know why someone looked at that limp flower and saw its dismay and decided to kneel and help it.
I want to know why its not that easy for me.

-c.g

Most people know that struggling in quicksand will only make you sink faster.
Yet, when you are young, you are also taught to never give up.
So, are you telling me to patiently wait for my entire body to be engulfed by sand?
Or are you telling me to fight the current and try to pull myself out, ignoring the rate at which my body is going under?
In a situation where your clothes were to catch on fire,
you are taught to stop before you drop and roll.
If my body were to ever be covered in flames,
would I have the self control and calmness to stop moving and get to the ground?
When the Titanic was inevitably sinking in the middle of arctic waters, crew members were yelling at frantic passengers in hopeless attempts of getting them to remain calm.
How could one remain calm in such a calamity?
When I fell for you, I remembered when I learned about struggling in quicksand so I stood still.
I did not want to sink any faster because I knew it would end badly so I held my breath and I stood perfectly still, just as I was taught.
But what I was never taught was that I would sink anyways.
When you were kissing me for the first time,
I felt like I was on fire and I thought about the day those firefighters came to my school and told me to always remember to stop, drop and roll.
But I didn't care enough to stop.
When things were sailing smoothly and you decided you wanted off our ship,
I felt myself break in half and start to go down and as I tried to remain  calm while I slowly lost feeling in my hands and legs,
I realized that nobody ever warned me to bring my own life jacket if I was going to cruise with you.
Despite all of these lessons, I sunk.

-c.g