“I think of you similar to my symbolic relationship with alcohol. I get intoxicated easily and a nice warm high that made me all happy and giggly, a pleasant feeling which I am addicted to. You put things in perspective for me, that some things holding me back are just in my head, and somehow I always feel better and braver towards my initial turmoil.
But it is also accurate that I can’t inhale you too much too long. My bodily intolerance means that i had to reject you for my health’s sake even though my mind craves for you. You are a serious brain cell killer. Like how the queasy feeling in my stomach lingers, thoughts of you will plague me for days after drinking.
And you, as the alcohol, probably doesn’t care who’s drunk off you. It doesn’t matter to you whether I like you or not, because I never mean anything much to you.”