I first came to my love through misuse.

Yes, though I hate to admit it, I came with a wrong motive, seeking something for myself, and essentially selfishness led me to abuse this gift to the world.  My initial curiosity led me to walk across that room.  Everyone had talked about it, but I didn’t really didn’t want to get involved.  I mean, there were stereotypes.

In high school, those were the people who bragged about their indulgences.  This group didn’t binge with alcohol so they had to binge with something—or at least pretend to have an addiction, a crutch, a hang-up.  “Man, I was up all night!”  Oh, Please.

The stressed out seemed to gravitate towards it; the tired and weak seemed to always have it nearby.  And spills and dribbles and