Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Feeling Normal

He needed it to feel normal though, didn't he. To right himself. Took a while for him, I think, to get to the point where he was OK with it. Where he thought, well, this is what it is now. To accept is to grow. That is what he told himself.

He used to need a day, maybe two. There were times where he even gave himself a week, or at least five days. But gradually he became willing to wait mere hours, only a few, before imbibing again. He never did as soon as he woke. He considered that a personal triumph.

It was in his head. It was in his blood. He used this as an excuse, I suppose, although he never said it out loud. Not while he was sober, not to many people. But sometimes, he said, you can't fight blood. You try, he said, and you lose.

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