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Chemical Reactions

Ammonia and Bleach

By brandee youngclausPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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chem·i·cal re·ac·tion

noun

• 1. a process that involves rearrangement of the molecular or ionic structure of a substance, as opposed to a change in physical form or a nuclear reaction

I had moved from grief. Yes, I was still upset but I was more angry. Everyone was so right about her and I just couldn’t see it. She used me to feel better and then just dropped off of the face of the earth. The taste in my mouth was bad, sour. I couldn’t even see straight I was so furious. She doesn’t deserve people like me, people that treat her well just for her to toy with their emotions and then not even give an explanation as to why I had to play the next victim of Florence.

I’d torn down my walls, she was vulnerable, so I allowed myself to open up to her and let her in and then she took the key and locked me out of the only place I used to call home. In all the books you read everyone says that love is like falling asleep or flying or all of these kosher acts. To me, the only thing I could compare it to would be drugs. Everyone hypes you up about it, tells you how great it is and why you should go after it. Then once you do, you realize just why they told you to, it’s amazing. It feels incredible. The world is a little brighter and your brain is a little less dark, but every time it begins to wear away, you feel terrible. Worse than you did before, and it makes you think, "Should I just stop doing the drug because the lows are so bad?" but the more you try to pull away the more the elastic bands of your brain snap you back.

You can’t stop. You’re withering away. You need to get away from it and breathe and think and you want to stop but the sickness that happens with the withdrawal of her is enough to bring a man to his knees. She’s so forgiving, and every taste, every small amount of time spent in her vicinity leaves you at risk for relapse. She’s intoxicating, but she’s dangerous to the soul. Too much of her leads to the explosion of two people and an overdose in the heart. No matter what they do. No matter what they say. No matter how much they hurt you, three years from now you’ll be sitting next to someone new, someone softer, less rough around the edges. Someone who treats you well, but simply isn’t her. Because opiate blockers numb the feelings but doesn’t take away the need, and you’ll get drunk in your shitty apartment and you’ll begin to think of them. You'll think of them so much you’ll have to beg yourself not to drop all your responsibilities and just run off to her again. You’ll hide your phone from yourself so you don’t call them at 3AM and tell them you miss them.

You swear you’re doing better and you think less of her every day but the imprint of them lives on in you forever, a disease that plucks your brain at every single thought of her. Every thought becomes a feeling, every feeling becomes a need and it’s an endless circle of trying to process her out of your brain. Some days are easier than others, sometimes your softer, respectable partner seems more appealing. Because you know that you’re doing the right thing and somewhere in your moral code you’re proud to be there instead of in the craziness that she puts you in. Although at some point of every day you know that you’ll never be able to lull the hushed whispers to leave and go to her. For others, it’s worse though. No opiate blockers to subside the need, only withdrawal and will power. Will power for something that’s not fair. Something that your brain actually manipulates you into needing. Never being able to forget or even quiet the whispers with another human. Sleeping alone becomes the hardest task, and the world becomes a darker place. And if you do slip up, you won’t realize your tolerance. You’ll think you can just jump right back in, not even noticing that receptively you’re more sensitive now, and things are beautiful. But you take too much and you won’t even know how hard it is to crash from that euphoria in overdose, but then the nasal spray hits you and breaks your entire spirit. The cycle repeats though. New opiate blockers, your shitty apartment, with your hidden phone. All you want is that person and all you don’t want Is that person and you know, you know that it‘s all man-made but your chemicals want so badly to be intertwined with mine.

So what if you’re ammonia and I’m bleach? The toxicity of you is part of the reason why I want you so bad. We’re just atoms, we’re just chemicals, and we’re all bad for each other. We’re all partially toxic and if you do love someone you know how absolutely insatiable you are. No amount of time will ever be enough. Whether your chemicals begin deadly and become good like sodium metal and chlorine gas do to become salt. Or whether they start off good and when mixed can take down an entire town like ammonia and bleach, once they're mixed, they’re just mixed. A chemical reaction changes the physical form of something, and afterwards there’s no going back. That’s how I feel about love. Especially now, especially when I’m messed up but part of me just wants her to come back and say she was scared. Say that she ran because she felt the same. Especially now when I feel like just hearing her voice could calm all my demons, even though she was the one who had caused them. Why do they make feelings like that? Why is it that if someone hurts you bad enough the only thing that can make it better is if they do right by you? As if they're somehow just going to change.

breakups
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About the Creator

brandee youngclaus

I'm Brandee. 22. Writing Novice. Author of Bruised Peaches. All I write are crybaby stories about toxic relationships. We write what we know. Sorry.

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