Forgetting something

My head spinning, my breath tasting like bile and my uneasy stomach wouldn’t allow me to stand up let alone vomit in anything other than a kitty litter container. It was 9 o’clock on Halloween and I was assing out.

I went three days without a drink but I was hardly eating either. Two days prior all I had was a gyro. One-day prior it was two cans of soup. Today there was nothing in my save Olympia beer and Evan Williams whiskey. I despise drinking but it’s easy to sit here today with those memories in my head and say I’ll never have another sip. The uncontrollable feeling I get after too many sips frustrates me to no end.

I worry what sobriety will feel like. Sure I’ll have more coinage in my pocket but there will be so many people I won’t see anymore. But I need to move on and past this childish debauchery I’ve been embracing like a national pastime. I had to be dragged over to that yoga mat where I slept until Hope texted me at 4am.

I walked out to the hallway and spoke in a library voice, listening intently about her night for and hour and a half and as I walked back to that yoga mat it was under my own volition. But I stopped and grabbed a slice of pizza; remembering that I forget to eat something that day.