Blinded

The need sticks for days. Four more days, to be exact. Every morning when I open my eyes, I feel the need – the urge. Every time I get handed a cup of coffee, all I want is to top it off with some brandy. Every time I hear any of the guys talk, all I want is ask them to bring me a bottle of tequila. Or vodka. Or absinth.
But I fight the urge. I bite my tongue and tell myself it’s all in my head.
‘Cause it is. It’s all in my head. And maybe my accusation of Frank was all in my head. Maybe his voice wasn’t slurred. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I heard it as slurred, because I wanted a drink.
I really want a drink. My body is too tense and my mind and thoughts are all over the place.
I need a drink! After all, alcohol always makes me see things clearer! At least in my head. When I drink, I always realize things – I always see things clearly. I become blind to the real world and discover my own feelings.
I feel better when I’m drunk – I feel more.
I just want a drink so bad.
I need it.
But I know I’ll disappoint everyone if I start drinking again. I won’t just let myself down, I’ll let everyone around me down.
I’ll let Frank down.
I bite my tongue.
He helped me through my addictions – helped me defeat them all. I can’t let him down. I can’t fail him.
I love him.
I don’t wipe my tears away. I let them flow in a steady stream down my cheeks and into my ears. I let my pillow get soaking wet.
I’ve always let things happen. That’s why I never noticed them happening.