Oh sweet beer.
You know. I love you.
That first sip on Friday afternoon. The taste of the weekend.
Pils of Triple. White or Mexican. I do not discriminate, polyamorous is my love for you.
The taste. That slowly descending fresh puddle inside me. You never, ever disappointed.
Rarely did I drink you singular. And that was also what bothered me. A quarter of a century after the dazzling start of our being together.
The evenings were so blissful together. Cozy with friends. Of Han Solo. You and me, just the two of you on the couch watching a movie.
But those mornings. That cotton wool in my head, that hot screwdriver behind my eye. poh. It got too much for me sweetheart. You don't care. You were always there for me. In the refrigerator or in the fun hook behind the tap.
If you do the same thing over and over and hope for different results, you're insane. And I throw all the blame on you and your alcohol friends. Unfair of course because we have had such golden times. Brotherhoods are forged. Women conquered and many quarrels settled by your lubricating effect.
And yet I broke our connection.
I do not want anymore.
I'm all done with you. Well yes. Your 0.0 nephew charms me. So we see each other sideways. Though it will never be the same again.
The last one was 11 weeks ago. It wasn't even a moment. I can't remember the last time I tasted you. Feeling yes. Still.
I feel so much better without you. My irritations towards others (work, wife, family, children) are minimized. My sleep is extremely much better. And another bizarre event has happened: I exercise almost every day.
My curiosity is back, I am reading a lot again and my weekends are filled with activities. And oh sweet beer, the energy I have again. Wooooow, so nice!
It's not you, it's me. I want more. I want to get better. Not fatter and dumber. Get awesome new experiences and remember them!
So goodbye sweetie.
(started drinking again October 22, 20221, update June 2022 again stopped on May 15, 2022)