My hand trembles as I extend it to her. It’s withdrawals, my body craving a drug. It used to scare me when my body quaked because I wasn’t strong enough to stave them off without giving in. But I’m not scared anymore. I’m stronger than I ever gave myself credit for, and I know chasing the high is the equivalent of running in place. With each stride, dirt gets kicked up and all that happens is you end up digging a hole beneath you. If you dig long enough, you’ll eventually get buried in it.
