Tomorrows A New Day

The saying, that tomorrow’s a new day. It’s not always a positive one. In the moment you can tell yourself, well its only tonight. Tomorrow I can start afresh. This night of drinking and all that it entails, tomorrow it won’t matter. Not even tomorrow, there’s always some marker you set, some time in the future, that’s when you can deal with everything. Hit rock bottom and start again, they’ll always be another chance. But you start running out of chances. Or maybe not chances, but you end up ruining everything that you value. You waste opportunities that before mattered so much. You loose friendships and relationships and real chances for happiness. But in the moment what does it matter? You feel it in you body, running down your throat coursing through your veins, filling your body with a warmth that you simply don’t know how to find otherwise. The taste, caressing your mouth, loving you in ways that no-one else has ever been able to. Or perhaps they have, but because you’re so broken and have such impossible needs, that when it came you just didn’t feel was enough. Maybe nothing would ever be enough, nothing from an external source. But that’s the thing with alcohol. It will never leave you. It’s always there. You know you can always find it, and it will always open its arms to you in love and affection and reassurance and comfort and anything else that you want it to be. And it hates you, deep down inside it hates you and strives to destroy you and wants you completely in its clutches. But that’s alright. Because the love in your mind overcomes that, it drowns out that voice in the back of your head saying don’t do this. And anyways, what do you care? Because you love the hate, you love how it kills you. Because that’s all that you know and all that you deserve. And so you go back. It shields you from what’s outside. Drink it till you don’t care or feel anymore. Facing up to life and more specifically the things about life that make you drink, well that’s a thousand times harder than just drinking it away. Honestly, life is horrible. At least your life. And those feelings of worthlessness, failure, rejection they drift away with each sip or at least while you may still feel them, you just couldn’t care anymore. You don’t care. Well, I don’t care. I may tomorrow, but then I’ve always been a creature who lives life dictated by my feelings and right now I’m not going to care. Or at least not care in the way I would if I didn’t have the glass in my hand.