Dear Drunk
Dear drunk,
The depths of my sorrow for you has no bounds. If you could only realize how bad I feel for you, and just how many hours of my day is spent with your drunken-self on my mind. For an example, I was at my doctors office last week and found myself even telling him about you. I told him the torture that you're putting your liver through even makes my liver hurt. He instantly pulled out his prescription pad and Pfizer endorsed ink pen and wrote me a neat little prescription to help the sympathy woes of my liver.
He warned me about the itching, but I think that's a small price to pay to know that my liver will never be shriveled and black like yours.
Of course my worries for you run deeper than that of just your liver.
Just this past sunday I had a prayer request with my priest for you to finally awake and become sober. It was weird, he kind of had this glassy look in his eyes (even more than most evangelicals do). It had me worried so I expressed my concern about him to his wife. She told me it was just a side effect to this new medicine the doctor has put him on. She said it's a god-send because he'd been unable to sleep for so long because his legs would twitch. She said the glassy-eyed thousand yard stare, and the persistent drooling is a worthy price to pay for rested legs. Not to mention their conversations have never been deeper.
Her being the good lady of the lord that she is, gave me a few to sample. So far so good, I can't remember my legs twitching any last night.
Don't let me get off subject though. I used to have a really bad habit of that until my mom gave me these little green oval pills that have really focused my mind. Which is exactly what I need in these moments of sorrow over you, the sad drunk.
To think about you drinking a beer and laughing with friends, gives me an uncontrollable urge to cry. I found myself in such a deep fit of tears recently that my own father had to give me a sample of one of his prescriptions. That's the night that I discovered that you can't cry when you can't even hold your head up.
Again though I wish you could just find your way out of this beer haze. Just think of the people who really love you, because I'm growing tired of the worry. My friends hate seeing me this way. They have never-ending love for me and always just want to see me happy. Just last week I was staying with my best friend, and again lamenting over your sorry drunken state of being. She just couldn't stand seeing me that way so she let me in on a little secret that her doctor had prescribed her. It really seemed to do the trick. That was the night that I discovered that you can't worry when you can't even focus. She warned me that it was really for a sore back, but really it's one of those miracle cure all, gift from God type pills. Boy was she right. The thought of you drinking a beer and watching South Park completely left my mind that night.
Of course I still felt hazy minded in church the next morning, but I even discovered that the hazy mind actually helped me understand the "word."
I feel that I should wrap this up. If I can't pull you out of your drunken spiral by showing you that life is so much more than beer, then it's futile for anyone.
If only you could see how much more there is to life...