I stop at a stoplight, when the yellow light was about to run its course.
I look straight ahead for a while.
I take a look to my left and I see a familiar liquor store.
The sign can be seen from more than a mile.
I daydream before the light turns green.
As I’m driving, I’m reminded of how much I enjoyed drinking,
how it started at a party when I was 12.
One party, one try lead me on a life loving what was in bottles and cans.
It made me feel different, made me a new person.
People responded to me differently when I had a few drinks in my system.
Some started to see that I wasn’t pleasant to be around.
My screams and my swings grew over the years.
They were there at school, my job, my marriage, and everything I stepped my foot into.
The more I drunk, the more things fell apart.
The alcohol became a repellent and a deduction.
I ended up losing my family, my house, my things, and my job,
all because of my dependency.
I needed it because I wouldn’t deal with everything.
And when everything was gone all I had was the alcohol and he streets.
It took helping hearts and a near fatal poisoning for me to stand above the rocks.
A program had me take more steps than I could handle,
and the progress was met with resistance,
until I saw that the results gave me more than I imagined.
Two years have passed since I tasted the stuff.
And with a possible termination of my current job
I could have been drunk,
inebriating my problems instead of facing them,
but I won’t.
I have a possible visitation with my children next week,
something my soberness has granted me.
And this soberness continues to take me to new places,
away from destruction and towards my second chance.