Before the Booze

I met my wife before the booze which sounds nicer than the truth because before the booze was **** and drugs and the mother of my first child, you know, that chick I used to love. I met my wife after the great exchange, which is a regal title that directly conflicts with the darkness that arises in every conversation in which the travesty is mentioned. The mother of my first child, you know, that chick I used to love I got her pregnant when she was 17, angry, a victim of divorced parents and confused about her sexuality. I commissioned her parents, gave them half the cost of an abortion and decided the fate of my child who wasn’t born yet. And like I said, she was 17 between her parents and me she had no choice in the matter. I met my wife the month my dog died, so I was very fragile, confused hell, I was grown man in baby shoes and I will not soon forget watching my best friend croak and the irony that the poison that did him was pink bubbly liquid the reminded me of bubblegum. Bubble yum! That was the day that my dad put his hand on my shoulder after I had given the command to the doctor to my dog down and he said “Son, you’re a man today” and I said “Thanks dad” Then turned around and cried at the fact that that day was my birthday. I wish I could say that this had a happy ending I’m just glad to say it’s not a bad one The booze is still my friend, but it is no longer my mistress. My wife, she was a knife to me that stabbed me through the heart when I thought that I was heartless she twisted it just enough to bleed and bled out the darkness I just want to say thank you to her and to the God who believes in me for giving up such precious freedom to the one that believed that he was actually free.