Review of Co-Dependency
It was hard for me back then to admit that the kind of chemistry I feel with this woman would steadily corrode me from February to October 2024. Like a fly caught on a string, I would defy the glass to escape, while what presents itself as an abyss edges ever closer, attempting to denature me.
It’s also hard for me to sever this string of deep passion we share. My head is brimming with hormones that struggle to dissipate. How could they? I feed them, like an addiction. In this vast desert, I refuse to take the risk of walking through the dryness in search of significantly richer sources of emotional fulfillment. Why would I? For months now, I’ve grown used to the sparse flow here. It’s almost become a form of contentment. After all, who wants to stand in a flood? The truth is, I’ve pathetically befriended suffering. As if it were a badge of honor—suffering.
How difficult it is to continually remind oneself that one’s origin should never be ignored. I’ve strayed from my baseline, my compass stuck pointing in only one direction—toward you. With each loop of devaluation and idealization, you succeed in making my beliefs about love increasingly naïve. Until, eventually, I too find myself where you stand: in a web of grief, anger, insecurity, loneliness, lies, and acts of human malice. If only I had listened more closely to your statements about your self-image. If only I had paid more attention to all the signs, almost obsessively laid out before me. But it’s never too late to acknowledge them. They are timeless, artifacts of those entities who wish me well.
I’m thirsty, so damn thirsty. You’ve often managed to decide how much I’m allowed to drink. But now, in love for myself, I make this eternal promise: I will reach the place where closeness nourishes me. My mind deceives me into believing that what I have with you is the only truth. But when I take a closer look at you, all I see is a façade of culturally mundane erudition and hedonism, all propped up by physical appeal. Junk food.
The world increasingly defines itself by generic standards, all inflated with instinct-driven pseudo-philosophy. Late-stage capitalism, and we’ve fallen victim to the decadence that encourages our brains to cling desperately to stimulation. Always stay numb. You love it, just as I do. But who needs what dose?