On that balcony in Paris -
I wanted to call you with every fiber of me.

Like a life-long smoker trying to not light that cigarette wedged between his fingers.

Shaking.

I was an addict craving my next fix.
The withdrawals of you stung.
My body ached for you.

I knew you were poison.

I didn’t call you that night.
I wasn’t miraculously strong after.

But that was the first night I said no.
And I wasn’t sure if I could.

It was the first time that fresh air was inhaled where I felt in control.

I wanted to so badly. But didn’t.

That wasn’t the end, it took more pain before that happened.

But I am still proud looking back to that balcony.