Wounds Never Heal

"The wound never heals. It'll always be tender," is what the internet told me. Addiction is no joke. It grabs you and forces you into the same actions time and time again. You are at the mercy of its continuous desires. Watching from afar, you can't help as your hands move with half your consent, your eyes devour with lust, and your brain cries in total conflict. There's a war inside your head. The thoughts invaded, and they've started an occupation. It's gonna take a lot more than willpower to get it to skedaddle. Only two actions remain: succumb or resist. It's unclear who's choice it is.

The deed is done. Before you know it.

Regrets takes the place of desire. Unfortunately, there's no going back. "It's the last time!" you say, only half believing it. You want to believe it, but it's too late now. When the devil comes knocking, you'll answer. Like you always do.

He'll come knocking a few times, then leave. He'll come back, knock a few more times. Then leave. He'll come back, sooner this time, do his classic knocks. Then leave. He'll come ever quicker this time. Then even swifter until he'll stop coming at all and just wait outside your door. No knocking necessary. Waiting for you to open up on your own accord.

If you're strong, there will be a time where you've fought him off many times. You're tired from the fight. Or more accurately, you're exhausted from opening the door.

So you leave it open. But the devil doesn't take free wins so he just waits until you invite him in. You'll play that little game a few times, then it'll get boring again. You're numb to his tricks. But he's still there.

Maybe at one point you defeat him. You don't open the door when he comes and stays so he leaves. He leaves for a while and comes back. But you remember the mess he made so you don't open. So he leaves again. And comes back. But you still remember. Your house is clean, cleaner than ever.

At some point, he comes back. And you forget how messy he is, and he asks you to throw a party. You remember you probably shouldn't, but you haven't partied in a while. You're worried. You might go on a party streak after one party, but you figure your house can take one party. After all, it's super clean! So he convinces you, and you let him in.

Instant regret at the mess afterwards, but your house was clean, and it's only a little less tidy now. But no more.

But you got a taste of that nostalgia. It is sorta fun, what's the harm in pleasure? you say. So you let him in a few more times. The cycle continues.

Wounds don't fully heal.