The craving. The need. I'm sweating slightly, I can feel it trickling down my spine, feel my cheeks flushing, goosebumps on my arms, my hands are shaking. I want it. I need it. Even a taste, that would be enough. Just a little bit. Not enough even to be a full dose, just... just a bit. To get me through this. Past this. Just a bit.

I can see myself taking it, feel the warmth in my belly and the rush of pleasure and the sudden silence in the back of my mind as the addiction stops screaming out its need and just purrs, satisfied for a moment. For now. Until the next time.

I know how much I would go through, what I would do, to get my fix. If I thought I could, though it was even remotely possible, I'd be getting that fix now. Conning, stealing, begging, borrowing, buying, demanding, whatever it took. I'd get it. I'd have it. Anything to get it...

...except that.

The one thing I know I could still do.

I still have some pride.

I'm clinging to it.

And no, this isn't an entry about vicodin. It could be, gods know it could be, as half the trembling, half the need, and most of the physical pain is from that. It's not what I want most, though.

Given a choice between a dose of vicodin and a chance to get a fix of this... screw the vicodin.

Sadly... if I were offered a bottle full of the stuff... I might take it, though. At least then I could drug myself up enough to forget that I need anything.

Or anyone.

I'm starting to hate you, y'know. I'm sorry. But I am. I hate you, and I'm telling myself it's just because I can't have you.

I'm not sure, any more, if it is.

I'm not sure about anything, except that I want.

I need.

I crave.

Iri takn... daya, iri takn lient, lea'har, ent'fika... theunre... *shakes her head* Kquen. Kquen deh'kah, kquen deh'so, kquen LINTA. No more. I don't need it. I don't want it. It's all in my head.

I have no heart, so it can't be hurting. That seems as good a title for this as anything else.