I went to a wedding yesterday.
Saw some brothers and old friends.
A brother asked if I had
quit drinking, after denying his
pressure multiple times.
I said yeah, he immediately stopped
pressuring and asked "why?"
I told him,
something I wouldn't have done before,
"You know, I just didn't like myself
with alcohol. Plus it fed into my
depressive issues, and the cycle just
kept happening. I'm just done with it."
I left out that I'm currently in one,
no reason to explore that on a happy occasion.
But he understood, probably more than most.
Another brother and I dipped off
to have a "GTT" or
"Garbage Trash Talk."
Something we made up years ago that's
code for a brother-heart-to-heart.
We talked of loves present and past,
and what we hoped for the future.
I told him that she left for a while,
how it tore me up,
and how she's back now. He said,
"Do you think she'll do it again?
At this point I'm just
looking out for you, bro."
I told him, I said,
"I don't know, man, but
I'm willing to find out."
He accepted, knowing how I felt.
I admitted to him that I'd
"given myself up to God."
He beamed and recounted a time,
a conversation we had had some years
ago, outside of Sonic, drunk.
I had cried to him,
struggling in my faith, trying
to understand how God fit into my
life, even then.
He thanked me, it's always meant
so much to him.
I thanked him as well.
I was struggling on my drive home,
stuck somewhere between meaningless despair
and hopeless loneliness.
I had prayed.
He called me, drunk,
about to pass out,
just to say,
"Keep up the good work, man"
to which I responded,
"I'm doing my best, man."