The recipe is simple. A sour friendship, a torn heart. Heavy bleeding. The only way to staunch the flow is to compress the heart. The heart solidifies, now a metallic shell that fills with bile and heartache. The heavy weight settles in your chest, dragging you down, but you learn to live with the torment.

Until it comes along.

It starts innocently enough, offering to distract you from your torment. It steps in and takes some of the weight from your chest, helps you out at first. In return, you take it with you everywhere, out to breakfast and late night dinner. It lulls you to sleep, keeps you company when you’re lonely. It starts to ask more and more of you, but it takes more of the weight so everything seems ok.

It asks for commitment, it clings to you. You stay home at night and feed it, giving it what it wants. Long sleeves hide the commitment, they wouldn’t understand anyway. They don’t know it like you do. They don’t appreciate it .

It is all you need, it tells you so.