Dear Alcohol,

 

Hey, what’s up?  Look, I know this may come as a shock to you - given our history and how much fun we have and how in love we always were - but that love is over now. It’s time for me to move on. 

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I know it seems like only yesterday that we met. My parents were out at some party and they’d left us alone. I’d never paid any attention to you before, but I knew my parents were extremely fond of you, so I decided to meet you in person for the first time. And wow! What a blast! I finally understood what my parents and so many of their wild friends had seen in you all this time.

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But when my folks came back from their party and saw us together, that didn’t make them very happy at all. In fact, they were pretty pissed off. Which pissed me off, quite frankly, because I didn’t understand why it was okay for them to hook up with you, but not for me. So I figured, fine, I’ll show them eventually.

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And show them I did. As soon as they weren’t looking, we arranged our first date, and wow! What an f’in blast! You made me laugh, made all my friends laugh, and had this great way of making everybody feel awesome when you were around. You brought out my good side, made me feel popular. Accepted. Admired. Loved.

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I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me that things got pretty serious between us, and you ended up coming to college with me. I wanted to get great grades, so we didn’t see much of each other during the week, but on the weekends we made up for lost time. I eventually joined a fraternity, and of course all my frat brothers loved you too. Maybe too much. 

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As my career took off, we settled into a nice routine. You’d come with me on my business trips on private jets, and be my date at all the lavish Hollywood parties. I had an expense account and spent a lot of it on you, of course. But I made it seem like I was using the money to entertain clients. Granted, sometimes you got a little too clingy and I would break up with you for a few weeks just to get some space. I worried that I was too reliant on you for my happiness, fun, and success. But you were so captivating, so alluring, so available, anywhere and anytime, that eventually I would take you back and we’d pick up right where we left off.

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You were also a really great “wingman” when it came to hooking up, and you encouraged us to have an open relationship. Really open. We had one threesome after another and it worked great most of the time. Why not try new things?  What were their names again? Those nutcases Crystal and Tina, those chill types Mary Jane and Demmie…it was fun to mix it up, right? Granted, occasionally the hookups would get jealous or think we were spending too much time together and leave us. I guess they just didn’t understand our commitment to each other.

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Like any relationship, we had our share of breakups and reconciliations, but as I got older I started to realize our relationship was in trouble. After a really great night out together, I would feel really shitty in the morning. Like, so shitty I would be in pain. And the only way that pain would stop is if we hooked up again. And this meant that I depended on you. And that was a bad feeling, because I didn’t want to depend on anything or anyone except myself.

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I know you remember that really big fight we had where I ended up in jail. That was it for me. I’d had had enough. Breaking up with you was probably the most difficult decision I’d ever faced. I missed you so much. You had been such an important part of my life and we’d had so many great times together that I felt like I had lost a key part of my identity. Nothing seemed as fun anymore. Nothing seemed...normal. Because I had forgotten what normal was.

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I talked this out with other people in meetings that I started to go to. I was surprised to hear that many of them had hooked up with you too and run into the same problems. All of our stories were different, but the same, kinda’. With their help, I realized just how cruel you could be to others who had fallen for your charms. They, like me, thought that being with you was the only way to have fun. But over time, we realized that wasn’t true. We're all having way more fun without you. 

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Sure, every now and then I really want to get back together. I’ll see you in a nice new outfit, a new hair color. But I know it’s the same old you, just fancied up to seem sparkly new, fun, and…different. Like, this time would be different. But you’re not different. I’m different.

 

I don’t know why I didn’t realize this until that night in prison. Maybe I didn’t want to realize it. My friends and my family had been warning me about you for years, but I just didn’t have the guts to face the truth. But now I do. Okay, okay, yes, I did love you. I DO love you. But it's not real love. It's a selfish love, a love based on possession. I just wanted to own you, but in the end you owned me. And to be owned by anyone is unacceptable to me. Now, and forever.

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So sorry. I’m done. No offense, but don’t let the trash hit you on the way out.