THIS is my addiction without dosage.

Some people become addicted. Not love, not passion—just addicted. Like nicotine: it destroys, but without it, it's empty.
You know this person isn't yours, that the connection is toxic, but your hand instinctively reaches for the screen to check if they've texted.
And it's not words that matter—the very fact of their existence is there, somewhere.
This isn't love. It's chemistry at the level of pain. When the adrenaline of anticipation becomes a substitute for warmth, and ignoring becomes a form of power.
You know you're losing yourself, but the addiction is already deeper than desire. And the more you try to let go, the more it pulls you back.
The scariest thing is realizing that you're getting high not from the person, but from the destruction they cause within you.