Hello my friend.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I can’t spend another Sunday in terror for what I may have done, with hangxiety – apologizing to everyone I saw on my night out. Too afraid to look at my call log. My YouTube history. My what’s apps…
I can’t hide away from my feelings, use you as a crutch for confidence, to feel safer, cooler, more together. Because you actually make me feel the complete opposite.
Every week I say it’s done. We’re done. The wine that went from a glass to a bottle to two. The beers that went from 4 to 6 to 12. The Jager. The tequila. Every week I say no more and every week Friday nights happen. I am powerless when it comes to you. I can’t say no. And even though it’s only once a week, we can’t continue to be in each other’s lives.
I’m writing this to tell you we’re over. I’ve found a meeting. I’m giving you up. You’re ruining my face, my mental health and my life. It will be hard. I will miss you so much come Friday and I’m not quite sure how I’ll celebrate or commiserate without you, but I’ll figure it out.
I’ve loved you for a long time and I’ve realized that you have never loved me back. Not once. I’ve given you everything and you’ve given me nothing but anxiety.
I’ve always said if binge drinking was a sport, I’d be an Olympic gold medalist. Not any more.
Thank you for the laughs. For the tears. For the lessons.
I will probably always love you but sometimes you need to leave things you love behind in order to be better at being you.