I have an addition.
Connection. Human connection.
Meeting. Relating. Communicating.
Interacting with unique strains of life experience. Craft-brewed personality traits. Homemade habits and eccentricities and anecdotes.
These things. They intoxicate me. Make me do things no sane person would do.
I can’t get enough. I find significance in the insignicant throughout my day. A shared smile - yeah that’s the stuff. A passing “Bless You” gives me a buzz.
And as the rabbit hole goes deeper. As I discover more complexity and psychology and more flaws and more crazy and more lovely. As I hit the harder stuff. Oh man. It feels every better.
Straight through the senses, past papa’s veins, and taken right into the soul.
It’s a high unlike any other. To insight. To engage. To develop and empathize and… love.
I’m self-aware through this addiction. I understand it’s not normal. I think it scares people. Somewhere people lose their tolerance for it.
Most kids? They’re like me. They know the good stuff. They walk up to strangers and ask inappropriate questions and look. Stare. Wide-eyed and expectant. Give me an answer. Engage me. Fill me with what you’ve got. Share that sweet, sweet soul with me.
Somewhere along the line, we internalize “don’t talk to strangers.” D.A.R.E. for the soul. Don’t do that drug too much. It’s dangerous. It’s too painful. It leaves you vulnerable. It hurts too much. It’s weird. It’s rude. It’s easier to abstain.
Fuck that. Inject me with you. And you. And you.
My addiction to you is a celebration. I revere you. I need you.
This is a good drug.
When that connection is severed. When the syringe is empty? The pipe is cashed? Oh man it hurts. It hurts real bad and I struggle. I need more. Give me more. I’ll take that flawed connection. I’ll take that conversation cut with drama and crazy. I need that love however I can get it.
And sometimes it’s gone. Like gone gone. Forever. No matter how good it was or it seemed to be it can be gone in an instant. And I ache and I pain and I cry and I cringe.
But this wonder drug? The tolerance to it works backwards. Every new dose is just as good, as new, as awesome. Every new person is a new adventure. A new trip to take. A new crazy road to wander on.
That high never dulls, but the pain of it being gone does. Perspective dulls the pain of disconnection.
As more and more connections throughout my life are cut off - they hurt less. I jones less. I know that the drug was good to me. You were good to me.
There will be another one.
Of all the addictions… the most rewarding thus far has been people. Love. Connection. No question. No debate.
Give me another hit.