I never want anything to be over. Doesn’t matter if it’s a high I’m chasing, romantic relationships, chapters of my life — whatever. I think that’s what defines an addictive personality right?
People often ponder, “what in the hell would ever compel someone to get addicted to hard drugs?” as if you make a conscious decision to become dependant on smack. No one does that; no one sits down and says to themselves, “hmm… I think I’ll go on a meth binge and see where it takes me.” No; you find a new poison, fall in love with the high and before you know it you’re railing percocets off the toilet paper dispenser in the stall at work because it turns eight to ten hour shifts full of bullshit and boredom into time-agnostic nonsense and illegal smiles. Skip ahead a few weeks and you can’t find the will to get out of bed until you get your routine doses of opiates down the hatch.
Or what about chapters of life? Everyone has their phases; I was one of the pot smoking death metal kids in highschool and we had a shitty band. That was awesome and it sucked when we all graduated, drifted apart from one another and started work on our own separate agendas. Then you make new friends; work friends. Then you quit, find a new job and turn the page onto the next chapter of your life.
People are temporary and drugs are bad for you, or something like that.