Us, Again

by Elle Maxwell

time. Loving him made me realize that anything I thought I’d felt before this—this uncontainable emotion bigger than me, or him, or even both of us together—was merely a droplet and this was a torrential downpour. It was chaos, a madness we couldn’t control, and we gave ourselves over to it.

Addiction is not cute. It is not something to moon over or wish for in a great love story. There’s nothing romantic about debilitating co-dependence. Obsession is not the same thing as love—the same way needing another person is not a sign of a healthy relationship or a stable sense of self. Because, just like heroin, when the person you’re addicted to is gone, it’s excruciating. Life-threatening.