Alcohol,

I know we’ve attempted breaks, tried to switch it up to bring back the excitement, but we are over. No, I mean it - over. It’s been a six year run. A lot of great memories, but many of these overshadowed by painful heartache. You have changed tremendously over the years. You were once carefree but have become my crutch who has dueled as a dictator over my life.

You recently promised nights filled with dancing, youth, euphoria. In my mind you are a vodka gimlet, but in reality you stumble into my apartment as an aluminum can wrapped in America’s colors. The lies you tell me crumble after you seize me at 3 p.m.

You distract me while I scramble to finish papers and try to accomplish goals I’ve set. You even bombard my showers. Never a moment alone without you. Your next move headed towards me on an endless track. You become impatient when I’m not holding you. Soon the closest, cheapest drink is the only option that will suffice to your constant begging.

You drag me to hole in the walls, where you allow the disrespect and gawking of men. They flock around me and infiltrate my night. You never stick up for me, but continue to throw me to the wolves. I allow this repetitive scene to unfold because keeping you around means I’ll go to dark places, places where no one will judge my decision to stay with you, despite your abuse.

But I’m not fully innocent in all of this, there is another - cocaine. I know I say you are the only thing but once he walks into the room, clean cut and mysterious, I often sneak away from you and meet him in the closest bathroom stall. You know he is my kryptonite, my white buffalo. I’ll go on my knees for him. You are consistently there but ccocaine's chase, his warm loving blanket and his ability to make me feel important makes balancing both relationships difficult.

But not anymore. I’m throwing you both to the wayside.

Cocaine paints me as an emotionless trophy while you, alcohol, treat me as a fallen woman. Neither of you respect me for me. You use my personality as a vessel to reek havoc and my appearance to manipulate getting more you and me time.

I’m moving on, I’m slowly getting involved with sobriety. Sobriety wants me as I am. He strives to make me better. He is honest and has confidence in me. Most importantly, he understands the importance of other loving relationships in my life. He enhances them. He does not get jealous and seek revenge. He does not eradicate them.

Alcohol and cocaine taught me what I don’t want, so thank you for that. I know you’ll be throwing rocks at my window or showing up when I least expect it, I’ve learned to ignore your desperate attempts to fall back into false love. I know your interest will fade and I’ll see you with some new underage girl and I’ll think of you. But I know we’ve run our course. Farewell worn out love.