Today is my second day without a drink. I am feeling great. I threw all the empty bottles in my closet. Cleaned. Showered. Made some food, and ate it. I am feeling refreshed and ready for the new life.
Who am I kidding? I look around again, with my sober and clear eyes. Everything outside seems to be normal, regular now. But that makes me feel even worse on the inside. My heart is breaking. My perception is sharp as a needle. All the friends that I have made at the bars, all opinions that I have borrowed, and all the eyes that I have seen just look disposable now. I am drowning in the void of unpaid bills and, strained by my sobriety, smells of the city. I can feel with my guts how molecules of urban piss, shit, vomit, blood, and spilled somewhere behind the church semen are crawling in to my nose. Even the weather ain't any better. It is so beautiful and warm outside. It is a January spring in Michigan. And it seems like it totally should give me a boner. But it just kicks me in the balls instead, with all the good memories from my past that I have successfully struggled through.
I look in the mirror and I see there a face of this person that I know so bad. And I ask the face "Who are you and why do you always get in the way of my happiness?" The face remains silent. And then I ask it again "Do you know what I can do to make you go away, forever?" The face starts to grin. So I put my dirty stinky jacket on and walk outside to the emptiness of wounded streets. I go to the drugstore and get my paycheck from recycled bottles. I head to the liquor store, and exchange my pride rolled into $5 bill for the pint of whiskey. And it makes me brave enough to drink the ocean.