He sways while standing
A clear bottle in his hand
And he looks at me
With puffy red eyes
It's so obvious he has been crying
But for how long?
He sets down the bottle, then sits next to me
He draws in a deep breath, and looks up
Tears are glistening in his once lively eyes
And he wets his lips
Then he speaks
"You know, sometimes I think. I think about how I let it get this far."
He shakily pauses, clearly trying to hold down a forming lump in his throat.
"It's out of control now. But the liquor helps me in ways other things don't."
He looks at me with blue eyes that look broken and shattered.
My heart aches. My heart aches for this once whole man who is now shattered.
"you should try it." He says with a slight smile.
I know he is looking for someone to be his friend. To be his friend that shaees his dangerous love for liquor.
I pick up the bottle, and you know what I did?
I opened it, and I drank it.
The liquor burned my throat.
I kept on drinking.
And I understood his love for liquor.
I understood his love for the dangerous liquid.
I understood.
