DO YOU NEED IT LIKE WE NEED IT?

 

You need it. You know you do. You don’t have to say it out loud — it’s already written all over you. In the way you breathe, the way you move, the way your mind drifts back to it no matter how many times you tell yourself you're fine without it. You’re not fine. Not really. Not until you have it. And maybe not even then. But still — you need it. You do.

It’s not a want. Wants are light. Wants are for people who can walk away. This isn’t like that. This is deeper. This is in your skin. This is that thing that makes your stomach twist when it’s not there. That pressure in your chest when you think about how long it’s been. That scratch in your head you can’t quite reach. That’s what need is. And this is it. This is the it you need.

You try to distract yourself. Try to tell yourself it’s not a big deal. But it always finds a way to come back. Late at night. Early in the morning. In the pauses between everything else. That’s when it creeps in. Quiet but heavy. Soft but sharp. You feel it crawling around inside your thoughts, whispering, "You still need it." And you do. And you hate that you do. But it’s real.

You tell yourself you’re over it. You tell yourself you’re strong. That you don’t need anything. That you’ve got this. But then something hits you — a sound, a word, a memory, a flash of something familiar — and there it is again. That need. That pulse. That craving. That undeniable pull toward it. And no matter how far you push it down, it finds its way back up.

People might not understand. Hell, you might not understand. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need it. Maybe it’s a fix. Maybe it’s a feeling. Maybe it’s a piece of yourself that got lost somewhere along the way. Doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, it’s yours. It always was. And needing it doesn’t make you weak. It makes you honest.

Because the truth is, we all need something. Some people just hide it better. Some pretend they’ve outgrown it. But not you. You know what you need. You feel it like a drumbeat. Like a second heartbeat. And it’s getting louder. Closer. Heavier. You can’t fake your way out of this. You can’t outrun it. You need it like lungs need air. Like fire needs fuel. Like you need to feel whole again.

So stop denying it. Stop dressing it up. Stop calling it anything other than what it is: need. Raw, real, hungry need. For it. Whatever it is — you know. Deep down, you know. And once you get it? Maybe nothing changes. Maybe everything does. But either way, you need it. And that’s the only truth that matters right now.