Recovery

Hello, My name is Dom. I am a recovered addict.

No, it wasn’t heroine, cocaine or alcohol. Narcotics were never my habit.

What I craved was something else. I don’t know if it was better or worse…

I just knew I had to have it.

By any means necessary. The cost was never too high. 

I would go through odd lengths to get my fix. I can’t tell you why…

I was desperate for connection. I bet you don’t think that sounds so bad. 

The dealer of my poison, had many faces, problems and issues… but never anything meaningful to add.

They never appreciated my presence… so I would beg them to love me… until I drove myself mad. 

I could write a book of all the times I accepted fragments of a man who only used me because I could be used.

I should write a thank you letter to my loved ones who tried to intervene, and expose my problem 

As I repeatedly refused..

I was addicted to the sadness. I became ignorant to the beauty of love. I found comfort in being abused…

Bastard to bastard. Lust to lust… I would force myself to move on. 

Just to gain a little more agony.

It was as if I felt if I tried ONE MORE TIME… maybe it wouldn’t feel so bad to me

Until eventually I got all I get… filled my soul with all the scraps of poison it could take…

My will to love desiccated… my heart fractured until it could no longer break…

Finally… I had to leave the unsafe haven that crippled my bliss. The lonely nights of recovery were painful and endless… fighting the urge to be used again was painful… but I was determined to love myself… Logically I knew that pain is not something that should be missed. Enough was enough…because I just wanted to be enough without worry… I wanted love without pain… or I never wanted to try love again

And then came you… Something new… so fearless… and ready to choose. 

You were intentional in your admiration for me

I wasn’t a perfect choice… you knew all that we had to lose. 

Yet you love me openly, when I am used to being in the dark.

Behaviors I had grown to believe were overbearing to the weak 

To you… are a walk in the park. 

You are what I used to think was make-believe

You are freedom to my enslavement, 

With you, the shackles are broken

I am not your burden, I am your flower…I am chosen

Loving you is medicine, rehab, and therapy

I thank God everyday for sending you to take care of me…

I am no longer addicted to being conflicted with situations that I knew wouldn’t last.

I am no longer addicted to being self-convicted of the misjudgments of my past.

What’s done is done. I have finally won. 

And in the rays of his love, I can bask,

I have never even dreamed of being loved without having to ask

My man is my man. We are the only actors in our play.

No other lovers in our cast.

As we grow as one… I know there is so much more I have to learn

Nothing is too much for us though, as long as this fire in us continues to burn