I’m glad you enjoyed that. Hell, glad I wrote it down. There’s a bit more to it, but it’s nice to read back through and remember the little oddity that brought us together.

I’m near the end of my seventeenth day sober right now. I’m feeling okay, cravings today have been a bit powerful, but I’m still hanging in here.

On the dresser beside our bed I’ve left a half bottle of Jameson, a whole bottle of Bailey’s and I think there’s some vodka in there, too. In the fridge are beers, twisted teas and probably other alcoholic beverages. All right within my reach. I keep them there so that when I’m craving hard (like right fuckin now, just to be entirely honest) I can look at that shit and say: “I’m not quitting because it’s not around me. I’m quitting to be a better fucking man for myself, to myself and for and to those that love me most in this life. In spite of it being right at my goddamn fingertips.”

I’m quitting on fuckin purpose. For a fuckin purpose.

Fuck, I don’t even have a stress or emotional trigger tonight. I just wanna get fucked-up. How absolutely goddamn ignorant is that fucking feeling? What is that feeling? Childishness? Familiarity? I don’t even know for certain… It’s definitely Something, though.

But, I’m determined and I truly feel that I’m doing the best possible thing that I can be doing right now. Giving a big ol double-birds ‘Fuck You!’ to every bottle and can of alcohol in my fuckin home. And just keep growing away from that shit.

Anyways, fuck, that’s a lot there… But, I’m good. I’m sober, I’m fucking happy. And it’s been a great day and will be a perfect night to not partake of that devil in a bottle, that poison whiskey, that fuckin aqua tofana with you!

P.S. don’t kill your old man.