An Unremembered Emptiness

   I’ve been robbed of my gratitude and my optimism by a chemical concoction, a chemical addiction. Killing me and wanting more. There was never a thought of letting go, of quitting. Quitting? That would have had to include admitting defeat and the alcohol itself seemed (and somehow still seems) smart enough to prevent the possibility of thinking, simply, “I give up.”

    How is that even possible? For me, it simply was not.

 

     *     *     *

 

    Memory. Memory. Memory.

    My life has been so much an unremembered emptiness. 

 

 

from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Day 60)