You introduced yourself to me when I was still a child. You promised excitement and fun, but you never mentioned the price I’d have to pay. You never warned me about the times that I would black out or puke my guts up. You never told me about the awful hangovers either.Still you convinced me that the fun and excitement were worth the price.
Later, you promised social acceptance and parties, and still you kept silent about the price I’d have to pay. You left out the part about having sex with virtual strangers and the loss of childhood friends. Still you convinced me that the social acceptance was worth the price.
As I grew into adulthood, you promised me that you could help me to cope with my education and work. You never mentioned the way you would interrupt my train of thought and interfere with my desire to succeed. And still you convinced me that you were helping me. Finally, you promised that you would help me cope with my relationship problems, financial strain, and fear of failure. You never mentioned that you meant to multiply these things. You never told me that, eventually, you meant to kill me.
So now, I promise you I will take back all you have robbed from me. Good-bye addiction. I won’t miss you.