25 (𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘗𝘖𝘝)

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Drugs are quite remarkable if you overlook the damage they cause. As long as you haven't tried them, you're like a virgin just hearing and talking about sex, but once you try them, you understand the real game.

Even if you only try one drug, once in your lifetime, you impure your brain. The elation it offers, perhaps almost immediately, addicts the brain to it. Being the reason why the majority of the addicts suffer through relapses. A part of the person's brain who used a drug won't ever forget or recover from it. A small part of that person will always and forever want that drug.

That's why, when you put a once-upon-a-time addict in the same room with the drug, you expect the person to be drawn to it eventually... or at least you won't be surprised when they give in and fall back into their old habit.

I could never relate to or even comprehend this matter, at least not deeply.

Unfortunately, love affects the brain almost just as similar as a drug.

Gracie Stewart is my drug.

Now, in the privacy of my car, alone, speeding down the lanes and heading back to my apartment, I can thoroughly think about it.

Relapse was bound to happen. I just didn't expect it would be so soon... perhaps a small part of me foolishly assumed I am beyond the laws of nature, structuring my brain.

Clearly, I'm not.

No matter how I rationally prove to myself I hate her, that I have to hate her, call her all sorts of names, remind myself of what she's capable of and what she did to me, I can't seem to be able to immune myself to her.

I just simply can't.

Everything's been getting more complicated ever since I did what I never should have done. If I had the power to wipe out one single night from my life, it would be last night. Or maybe the night I kissed her for the first time, over five years ago.

I despise cheaters, the vilest, most disgusting humans, veiling their cunning inner self with millions of lies and deception.

I've seen the direct impact cheating has... I saw how it ruined my mom when she found out William had been cheating on her for years. For years, I loathed my father for cheating on my mother, I still do. I was certain, I'd rather die than cheat.

Yet, I did exactly what I thought I'd never do.

Just like professors who slept with their students disgusted me, and I was sure I'd never turn to one of them... but I became one of them too.

Ironically, both of these presumably unbreakable morals of mine were shattered by the same person.

Gracie fucking Stewart.

I want to blame it on her. I truly, wholeheartedly want to. Maybe if I try harder, I might even succeed, but the reality will stay the same.

She was right. Gracie didn't force me into anything. It was all on me. I kissed her first. I started it.

I sigh and push my glasses up as I drive straight to my building's parking lot underground.

It's infuriating how I lost all bearings and could not think about anything, or anyone, at that point. Not even today when I kissed her in front of that diner. In fact, I didn't want it to end. A small mortified part of me is aware if she hadn't pulled away, I wouldn't have been able from stopping and it probably would've escalated... and we might have ended up doing it in the car.

I'm mad at her, pissed off by the control she has over me, and annoyed by how aware she is of this fact.

I want to hate her for making me a cheater. For being the only person I can't think straight when she's in the same room as me, but I can't. I've been trying since last night and failing miserably.

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