8 min read
I Saw It Coming
This isn’t a confession. You can’t prove a damn thing, so don’t even try. I’ll deny it to my grave. I’m on my third drink for the evening anyways. You can’t trust the word of a drunken man. That’s when I start to feel anything these days, the third drink. Sometimes it takes four, but usually three will do. It’s the same cycle every night for weeks now, I drink, then I start to feel, then the fear comes over me, then I drink some more until I pass out. Wake up, slog through the day. Keep my head down, keep my chin up, don’t draw anyone’s attention. Go home, repeat. One night a few weeks back there was a…