I tell myself I’m clean now. No more late-night scrolling through your archived stories. No more decoding three-dot ellipses like they’re scripture.

I don’t need food. I need good morning texts. I don’t need sleep. I need you to leave me on read for exactly four minutes so I can spiral, then reply with a heart so I can breathe again.

One heart react, and I’m yours again.

Yes, I’ve blocked you. Three times. Yes, I unblocked you at 2 a.m. to see if your Spotify playlist changed. Yes, I know that’s insane.

They say love addiction is just chasing the crash. But the crash is the only time I feel the shape of my own bones. Before you, I was hollow. With you, I’m a firework factory after someone dropped a match.

Because the worst part isn’t the craving. The worst part is that I love the craving. It means I’m still alive. Still ready to ruin myself for a single text.

Hi. Hello. Yes. Tell me I’m pretty. Tell me you thought about me yesterday. Tell me you almost called.

Here’s a short piece written in the voice and style suited for a — raw, confessional, and slightly obsessive, with the rhythm of an inner monologue. Title: The Next Fix

Love Junkie Sub Read =link= -

I tell myself I’m clean now. No more late-night scrolling through your archived stories. No more decoding three-dot ellipses like they’re scripture.

I don’t need food. I need good morning texts. I don’t need sleep. I need you to leave me on read for exactly four minutes so I can spiral, then reply with a heart so I can breathe again.

One heart react, and I’m yours again.

Yes, I’ve blocked you. Three times. Yes, I unblocked you at 2 a.m. to see if your Spotify playlist changed. Yes, I know that’s insane.

They say love addiction is just chasing the crash. But the crash is the only time I feel the shape of my own bones. Before you, I was hollow. With you, I’m a firework factory after someone dropped a match. love junkie sub read

Because the worst part isn’t the craving. The worst part is that I love the craving. It means I’m still alive. Still ready to ruin myself for a single text.

Hi. Hello. Yes. Tell me I’m pretty. Tell me you thought about me yesterday. Tell me you almost called. I tell myself I’m clean now

Here’s a short piece written in the voice and style suited for a — raw, confessional, and slightly obsessive, with the rhythm of an inner monologue. Title: The Next Fix