Everyone is lonely; No one wants to admit it.

I fucked up. One week of sobriety and I threw it all washed it all down the drain with some Red Bull.

I'm okay with this. I know my sobriety is not permanent. I am following the sober life long enough to make it through Grad school (or law school). Then I can enjoy my life like people without addictions. I know that any trip out of this God forsaken state will warrant some cocktails at the first jazz club I can find. I'm not disappointed that I failed.


I sat there, midday, drinking my double vodka, thinking.

And the more I thought about it, the more it nagged me. Something that I couldn't pinpoint picked at my brain. I tried to drown the nagging with more vodka. Isn't that what drinking is for? To silence the thoughts that we don't want to hear?

Six double vodka red bulls and $50 later, it worked. It worked because it always works momentarily.

As I sat in class and the alcohol left my body, it clicked: I had let him down. The one that believes in me. The guy that thinks that I can own the world. He's let me down more than I can count, but it still hurt. I didn't tell on myself. I sent a cryptic text, but I didn't outright say, "Hey, I'm fucking up as we speak."

No, I'm not disappointed in my failure, I am disappointed in my betrayal. I didn't let myself down because I have realistic expectations regarding attainable goals.