Nano Poblano 2016

One Thousand Nine Hundred and Eight

Any guesses on what this title is referring to? 

I quit keeping track of the days a couple of years ago, but the memories still haunt me from time to time. 

I can remember the time before the last time, middle finger shoved into the face of an older man. A man who grew up with my dad. A family friend. 

I can remember starting at noon and continuing until near midnight. Driving home with tear streaked cheeks. Worrying about the future, no regards for the present. 

I can remember driving home. Going inside to use the bathroom. Walking back out to sleep in the back seat of my car. My home was in the country. 

I can remember waking up on a love seat I gave my neighbors. Laying in a pool of my own piss. Blaming the dog for it. Everyone knowing the truth. 

I can remember texting random people at all hours of the night (early morning). Not remembering doing so until the morning (afternoon) after. 

I can remember showing up drunk to my lessons with the missionaries. Smoking half a pack in the space of one hour. Them thinking I was high. Might as well been. 

I can remember the last drink I ever drank. Canadian Mist and Diet Coke. Half and Half, lots of ice. I drank about four sips of it. Poured the rest down the drain. 

I can remember pouring out every sip of beer, wine, and liquor down my studio apartment sink. 

I did this about 1,908 days ago. 

I can remember these last 1,908 days much better than I can remember the 10, 802 days before.

3 thoughts on “One Thousand Nine Hundred and Eight

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