I dismissed it when I first heard it, like I had no use for it. A true sentence – and a sentence it is, indeed! – but what did I care? Then I stopped: what if this was the sign I’ve been begging the Lord to show me? And here it is, my epiphany…
I’m an alcoholic. I can’t just drink a glass or a bottle; I have to deplete the whole cellar. I’m unable to stop unless it’s all exhausted. Therefore, I’m not entitled to that one shot to chill the evening. I don’t get to enjoy the wine, sip the cocktail or play with the beer foam; to me, it’s all booze ready to be drowned into. All I can do is put a full stop.
The sentence was simple: anything that can end, will end. One way or the other, be it parting or death, will lead to a loss. So why start, when you can’t handle the conclusion? No more, today I stop drinking. The pain of this thought is excruciating, and more than once I’ll burst into tears, but somehow in sorrow lays the truth. It’s painful, but at least it’s real. Thank you, Got, for revealing it to me in a place I’d never suspected. All I ask is grant me the will to accept and the strength to carry its burden. Help me come to terms with this, find the serenity of what stretches beyond the universe of inner torment.
But as I relinquish anyone else but me, I need to uncover myself completely. I need to learn it all and make it be enough. No right way is easy, and the harder it seems to me now, the more convinced I am of its purpose. Yes, it will be lonely. Yes, it will cast doubts. But at least… at least I’ll be in control of it. No one else, just God and myself. If I am to perish, it should be my doing.
Don’t make an alcoholic walk into a bar. Don’t open the door of a sweetshop to the diabetic. And don’t push a gambler through the tourniquet of a casino. I beg You: spare me the temptations while I’m weak and don’t change their face after I’ve learnt how to defeat them.
Today I stop drinking. Today I stop. Keep me safe and resolute. Let there be no end. Lord, keep me secluded. Let there be peace.