It wasn’t one guy.
It was all of them.
A parade of maybes and fuckboys and
“I don’t usually do this”
until I stopped remembering what I liked,
what I wanted,
what I needed.
College slipped away quietly.
Assignments ignored,
dreams postponed indefinitely.
I was chasing dopamine in people
who didn’t even save my number.
And I told myself I was choosing this.
But it felt more like falling
than flying.
The only time I felt close to anything was right after it ended.
Naked, buzzing,
empty.
That’s how I knew I’d gone too far
even the booze stopped working.
Even the high felt low.