Manic and frenzied I run around, gasping for air in my vacuum of franticness. A convulsive mix of coloured dots clouds my vision, droplets of sweat stream down my face, foamy spittle wets my reptilian lips. I can’t start my day without it, I can’t get through my day without it, my day ends with it. I flip the stained couch cushions, I don’t remember those stains from yesterday but I can retrace my steps after I find it, once I get it I’ll be complete. I stop for breath and my vision clears, the coloured dots dispersing violently. I use my now crystal clear vision to scan the dusty glass table for any sign of it. Nothing. I rush to the bedroom, strip down the bed, fluff the pillows, sniff the carpet. Nothing. I scatter the bathroom, tossing the toothpaste, toothbrush, soap bar, toilet seat and dislodging the tap for the sink. Nothing. I zoom to the kitchen and continue my search, sifting through the silverware and knives, peering between the bottles of wine and picking at the tabletop grime. Nothing. I swing open the fridge and dive in, crushing up withered cabbage and inspecting the numerous open bottles and containers. Again. Nothing. My legs give way, relinquishing the chase for it but my mind stays focused, the only clear thought able to be produced bellows, ‘find it’ in my ears. I will. I must. I crawl across the cold marble floor, my fingers straining to propel me forward. I reach the front door, grab for the handle, miss, and crumple to the floor. I regain some semblance of composure, lean against the door, prop myself up and grab the handle, pulling down with force. Light streams in as I open the door, I crawl out and stare at the doormat that reads ‘come’, it said ‘welcome’ when I bought it. There it is, it was laying there all along, laying there waiting for me to come and find it. I snort it, I hug it, I kiss it, I rub it, I fuck it, I love it. At this point I am it.
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