by Mattias Våglin
In the beginning it was all so innocent. I only needed small doeses to keep afloat. I could probably have quit if I wanted to, I was in control. But it didn't take long before the small doses weren't enough. The urge grew stronger each day.
I could wake up in the morning and get a quick fix. Just a small one. To keep me going through the day. But not an hour, not a minute, passed without me thinking of what lay ahead. My body almost ached with longing. To focus on anything else was pretty much impossible.
All this went away when I got a decent dose in the evening. The effect could last for hours. I was care free, the world stood still. Nothing else mattered.
Every evening, just when I've had enough, I was always reminded of what was in store for me the next day. He smiled his highway-wide smile, hollywood-white teeth, and passionately told me what they had coming. I went to bed with a strong anticipation. I couldn't wait to try out new stuff.
In the weekends I hardly left my apartment. Hour after hour was spent alone in my couch and that's just the way I wanted it, I had everything I needed. Sure, in some cases company can improve the experience, but mostly it just gets in the way. Others shout-outs and irrational behavious I can live without. Whoever said sharing your fun doubles it, was clearly talking about something else.
Then the day came when it all ended. Suddenly too. Cold turkey. You'd think those responsible would ration it a bit more, they had to know they were running out of product. Instead they did the opposite. The doses grew stronger and stronger. The quality was unbeatable, I've never experienced anything like it. The last days were spent in a constant high. I've never been closer to an overdose. And then it was over.
At first it didn't bother me much. I felt the memories would be enough to keep me going for months. That wasn't the case. Just a few days later the urge started make itself noticed again. There was a hole in my soul that couldn't be filled. Others tried selling me cheap knock-offs, but nothing helped.
I'm told time heals all wounds. Fortunately that was the case this this time, even though I really missed what had been. I never got the shakes, but I came close on several occasions. Finally I managed to put it all behind me, but I'll never forget. I realize that if anyone can offer me the same thing again I'm not even going to hesitate. I should know better, should have learnt my lesson, but when it all comes down to it I'm just too weak.
It's a good thing the Olympics only come around every four years.