Addiction was a nasty thing. A disease that caught your heart in a vice grip, that overwhelmed everything in your life.

You and Spencer met when you were both using. And the relief of having someone so close, so touchy and loving and affectionate whilst you were under the blissful blanket of whatever substance you’d chosen to abuse this week… it seemed beautiful.

But now that Spencer looks back at it, it was the worst time in his life.

He’s clean now, he has been for the longest while, it’s what caused you to walk out the door when he mentioned rehab. But as he watches you from across the room, eyes locked on where you sit at the bar on a stool, he can see that you aren’t.

He used to think that you were so beautiful, transcendent, an absolute vision when you were under the influence, floaty and free and happy. But you don’t look like that now. Maybe it’s just because his mindset has changed, his pretty, amber eyes see the truth, not the drugged up memory that he’s used to.

You look thin, and weary, and unsafe as he approaches, scared eyes flitting about as you grip your drink in your hand, tight. So out of place. So vulnerable.

He knows what it’s like.

Your shoulder shakes under his palm as he slips onto the barstool beside you, and yet your eyes glaze over with some sort of recognition at the touch. And as you turn to face him, his heart just breaks.

“Hey…, uh..”

He fumbles, because a pet name was so close to falling from his lips, something sweet and affectionate that he knows you’d lean straight into. It’s not right to swap one addiction for another, whether it’s healthy or not.

“You, uh… Are you doing okay?.. Do you want me to get you something?...”

There’s no point in pleasantries, you know each other too well. There’s always been something so much deeper than love between you, a connection that went unacknowledged for the longest time.

Spencer will always love you. You’ll always love him.

You just need to learn to love yourself first.