I’m sappy when I’m drunk. I wish my brain would turn this way all the time. Maybe those are the famous last words of an alcoholic. I feel like love and energy. I hate that I feel so alive this way. Drinking is only a small piece of who I am, but it puts together the rest of me in such a familiar way. I’ll read this tomorrow and make no sense of it, but right now all that matters is my small world, and all that happens within it. Connection is everything to me, how could I be human alone? My friends make me want to hold hands forever. What gives you meaning if not those who love you? Go listen to The Moody Blues. I’m sorry. I have to spill when I drink.