The chemical formula for love. A substance that could produce the same feeling as love within an individual. A “love potion” brought into reality. I can’t believe I have it, finally.

“Be careful, M. Overdosing on any of the substances can easily cause schizophrenia, extreme paranoia, and insanity. I trust you to use this responsibly.” Alex says before passing the carefully taped box into my hands.

“I will. Thanks, Alex. Really.” I say, right before shoving the Styrofoam box into my backpack which I sling over my shoulder.

I practically glide down the cheap metal stairs and burst out of the old, rickety door. Fresh fall morning air seeps into my skin. I breathe out air but I breathe in life. Every inhale fills me with energy, with passion, with determination. Each of my muscles begins to shake and I run towards my bicycle I hid behind the thorned bushes. My backpack shakes and slides on my back as I run, trying to keep up with my mind, moving at 300 miles a thought. I don’t think twice when I reach into the bushes to grab my bike and I don’t wince when I withdraw my arms to see them covered in blood from the thorns which punctured my skin. I don’t stop before mounting and sailing off on my bike into the empty trail.

Something about the purity, the emptiness, the intimacy of having an entire town to yourself on Columbus Day weekend is just so relaxing, so serene.

I have it. I finally have the one thing that may make things go right for me for once. I don’t know how long it’ll last or if it’ll even work. I don’t know what it’ll do and I don’t really care. I have it.

I finally may be able to feel something other than angst and frustration, other than simple joy and nostalgia. I, for once, finally have a shot at feeling love.


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