Yup, drinking.

I try not to drink too much, especially as a means of self-medicating in the harder moments of life. Too many people have left pock-marks on my life with their addiction and I refuse to allow myself into the ranks. I can’t. I won’t - I will not become one of the others. I owe that much to myself, and to those who’ve shared the same hardships.

Sometimes, the drink is right. I cannot be strong in every moment. I listened to a favorite record of mine today, one whose grace carries potent memories of a very poignant time in my life. It is such an ambient record, and though massive waves of sounds pour from the speakers, the reverb is so vast and wet that it pushes the walls and adds too much space to this place; too much room for the mind to wander in. That was what made it such a cathartic listening experience a few years ago, when I was fresh with your wounds. If it were not lyrically relevant, I might have shed a few tears less.

I feel like we need to have a heart-to-heart, and that we both need to want it going in. I hate the same passive-aggressive bullshit routine but I need to vent, and I can’t be certain that you’ll read this… though I imagine you might. We know each other all too well but can’t always tell if we’re mentioning one another. So here’s your assurance: it’s you, and you know it. If you want to talk, let’s talk.

I might come off as harsh and venomous, if only for lacking the right arrangement of words. I promise - as I’ve always promised - that I just want to clue you in on your own happiness. I want your everlasting contentment and smile.

Not for myself. For you.

Let’s talk.