I have but one love left in my life that is not of my own blood. A love which contains no fear of fall out, and no sign of disinterest. A love that sees itself manifested on a daily basis.
Make no mistake, I have other loves of my life. A love that I left in Ohio, one stuck in the midwest, and countless in the middle east. These loves, however, are, at best, ones that seem to continue to move further and further away. This love, this love has never left me.
I take this love into my arms, and feel it warm my blood. My heart jumps in pace, my eyes narrow, my focus comes in. Clarity sets in, and the size of my world finds itself decreasing with each passing second. Our lips touch, and my excitement reaches its climax.
The contact we make is breath taking. I sometimes have to remember to breathe. Out of respect, I maintain a smooth pace, not to rush the bounds of this love. Or maybe it has evolved into lust. A moment I realize once I start, I have to finish. The shear beauty that I behold is deserving of nothing less than to be finished.
Alcohol and I have a long history together. Full of ups and downs, breakups and obsessions. I have lived in a world where Alcohol was fun, She was a toy. Then She became a necessity. She was my very will, driving me forward. My love for Her bordered on the obsessive, except I could have Her whenever I wished, and I did. She was never not by my side. She was my protector, hiding me away from my own truth and hell, but She betrayed me.
She protected me from one hell by building another.
So She and I have an agreement now. I will continue to love Her regularly, but She will never again be allowed to control me, to persuade me. I have gained a level of control, but not completely. Once they touch your heart, they have left a mark on it that will never leave you. She will always be a part of me, but I continue to find a way to push the one I love away, until She becomes my only friend.
Every night.