The God’s Honest Truth OR Drinker with his eyes wide open OR I can’t think of a title so fuck you.

There are no truer words than that of a drunk man. Or drunk woman. Or, I suppose, drunk child. The one who is inflicted by a river of rum and fuck all knows what the hell else tells no truer tales. I was trying to make a point about alcoholism and honesty, but I think that point gets a little lost among the streams of mind-altering substances that rush through blood streams so assuredly that there is not another explanation for the behavior. The loss of coherent thought versus the truth is a battle that wages currently. I’m not sure what I was trying to say.

That’s an obviously lie. I know exactly what I’m trying to say, but the time for saying it has long since passed and goddammit if I don’t regret silence in the most inconvenient time. That is neither here nor there. There’s nothing I can do to change what has happened in the past.

Except that I feel the need to say a lot of things. I feel the need to say that I love you. I feel the need to say that I miss you. I really need to say that I’m sorry for the way that I treated you.

What I really need to say is that I fucked up. I was so caught up in the thrill of first love and the mistakes that I made in it that I didn’t pay attention to second love and the things that you offered me. What I wouldn’t do to take back that obsession with it and the ignorance that I displayed in the time that we were together.

What I really need to say is that I’m glad you’re happy now and, even though I wish it was with me, it helps to know you’re smiling somewhere in the night. I’m sorry that it isn’t me who makes you smile and I know you wanted it to be, but I think that you’re happy with what you found and that makes me grin. You seem to be getting what you deserved from me all along now.

I’m really not sure why I’m writing this. I suppose I needed to say it. Today has been a day of forced acceptance and change for me and I guess that I’m trying to get some kind of clear slate to start from. It is a new year after all and admitting that second love meant as much to me as first love and that I’m stuck on it again is my way of saying that I’ll move on now.

So, as this new year ends and another one begins, I hope this year will be a happy one for all that I love.

There’s not much more a man can hope for than that.


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