so this is what judas the betrayer feels.
this is the high the addicts chase until their last rattled breath escapes them.
this is the destruction we all privately seek out, like the drug dealers in the filth ridden, putrid alley ways, so far away from suburban white washed bliss.
every moment of these past two days i've wondered how i can go about recapturing the adrenaline. reliving the sin, just one more time. no, more than one more time. as many times as i can stand it.
my heart didn't break as thoroughly as i'd predicted it would when the lights went off and my skirt went up.
in fact i could barely feel the splinters in my chest as strong hands cupped my arched back, and hot shivers traveled up and down and around and in between my thighs.
i didn't even hear it break between the panicked whispers, rushing gasps, and occasional moan emitted from one or the other party.
"i think we need a break," i say through weepy mascara tears.
i drive away, leaving his dumbfounded expression in the drifting cotton snow. through my tears i manage to send a short, to the point text.
"i'm coming over."
barely a few moments later, a response.
what we are depends solely on our choices. the choices of the unfaithful reveals them for what they are.
hey, we've all gotta get our fix one way or another.