Addicted.

I am addicted.

Not to drugs or alcohol, or sex, or gambling, or anything people are usually addicted to. But more so to a person. It sounds really creepy, but it's the best way I can describe it. Here, let's look up the definition of addiction....*goes to google*....

Addiction: being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming (especially alcohol or narcotic drugs)

Okay, so maybe I am using the word in the wrong context, but I'm just going to stick with this word for a lack of better term. So what if it's not drugs or any other terrible thing that most people hear about, what is it that I am addicted to? Well, I'll tell you.

I'm addicted to a person.

But not in a creep stalker obsessive kinda way....but in a bad way nonetheless. Addiction are usually bad. They harm the mind, body, and soul and it leaves a person weak. My addiction harms the soul and mind.

The only reason I would call this person an addiction is because of the side-effects or the "high" I feel around him. It's not a good high though. It's a bad one. Instead of making me feel good, it makes me feel terrible.

See, whenever I'm around him, I beat on myself. I say things that I don't want to, but can't help. I become depressed around this person. And I would say that it is mostly my fault....okay, not mostly...ALL of my fault.

When I'm around him my self-esteem drops super low. I could be having the best day of my freaking life, but when I see him, I clam up, I go into a fetal position mentally. See, I am convinced that he doesn't like me very much. Something inside of me kicks (haha...kicks...like a baby! Except not....-_____-'') and gives me an icky feeling, a feeling that says "He doesn't like you very much. Find out why! Don't be that person!" And automatically I go inside of myself and the war begins.

He went on vacation with his family for a couple of weeks, and I was relieved. I'm trying not to like him, I really am. I think I succeed most of the time, and then, and then....I don't know what happens. All of a sudden it comes back and it's like "good going Serena, you FAIL". So while he was away I took the time praying to God that I focus on Him. My distractions were gone. And that Sunday he came back I sat in the balcony for two reasons. One, because a bunch of my friends were gone and it's awkward being pretty much the only college kid amidst high schoolers, and two, because he was there. Because I know that I wasn't prepared to face him again.

I know it's my fault that I'm always at their house. It's my fault I always go around. I'm fine going to their house for the most part, I only lose it when he comes around or talks to me or something. Then I'm like "no no no!"

See...so, I hate saying this because it sounds so Twilight-y but it's the best way to say it (and no, I'm not trying to relate my life to that book. It's really in me.) I can't stay away.

I mean besides the nasty side-effect of depression, there's some good in it! He makes me laugh, he reminds me to be more observant, he makes me feel as though I should strive to be more articulate and more positive. So it's not an addiction at all right?

Right?

Huh, I don't know....all I know is that I should try to stay away for a while....but does it really need to come to that? I hope not...because then he'll think I'm even more strange and it'll be even more awkward and no one wants that...

*sigh* I fail.