A new affair with an old lover

Dear Alcohol,

It’s been around fifteen months since we had our big breakup and what an interesting time it’s been. For most of that first year, I didn’t really miss you at all. In fact if anything, and I don’t mean to be rude, I found my life to be more fulfilling without you. I was waking up refreshed. Clear of mind and clear of conscience. My mouth didn’t feel like it had been used by you in some kind of dominatrix sex act. My soul didn’t feel degraded and used. But I guess I still must have had some yearnings for you deep down. My spirits soared when we happened to meet up after all that time in the Czech Republic. Seeing you in a Prague bar made my heart skip a beat. We flirted quite shamelessly and even though we didn’t go all the way, your gentle whispers aroused me in a way that made me just a little light headed and giddy. And our rendezvous in Paris felt like those romantic nights we shared in our youth. You were a true delight to be around. But once I was back home, I was happy to just look at this interlude as a holiday romance. A little fling while abroad. And it was easy for me to do that. Back in my regular world, I felt there was no longer a place for you. I’d fully moved on. Or at least so I thought. I’d had no problems through that first year watching you being intimate with my friends. Seeing them be seduced and fall completely under your spell. In some ways I just felt slightly superior, being completely immune to your undoubtable charms whereas they would be staggering around blindly and slurring, complete fools for your love. But something happened and I started to get jealous seeing my friends sharing you and you wantonly throwing yourself upon them with abandon. Everyone would be having such a good time and I felt quite staid, like the prude at the party. I was boring myself and I started to want you. To need you. I knew however that that we couldn’t just fall back into our old ways, as our old relationship was too destructive for me. So we agreed to take it slowly. To be friends with benefits rather than in a committed relationship. I know that it’s a bit shallow, but I have decided to only see you when you are dolled up and looking glamorous. When the passion is truly there and you are able to seduce me over again with your beauty and style. I can’t afford to allow myself to give over to you completely and love you unreservedly or that will see me back in the destructive relationship we once had. I no longer will be prepared to accept you on those nights or days where you turn up dressed in cheap material and with the foul scent of vomit on your breathe. Whereas previously I could push through on these occasions, allowing you to stick your rancid tongue down my throat, forgetting your putrid state as the night unfolded and getting caught up in a passionate frenzy that only filled me with empty regret the next morning. I’m more interested in keeping our relationship fresh. To only see you when it suits me this time and not just when you rock up, or because I happen to see others engaged in a large orgy of your making and they invite me in to taste your juices. I intend this time to be regarding our dalliances more as an affair with an old flame, one with whom I’ve shared a lot of great experiences and am completely comfortable. But I need that magic spark. I don’t want to be just going through the motions with a partner who clings to me and doesn’t give me the freedom and space to do things without her. And I need more romance in our relationship. I am looking more for sensuality than just the physicality of the act itself. And from my part I promise to treat you with respect, to not take you for granted and to try and keep things fresh by meeting up with you on special occasions of our making, and not those of others. I look forward to the time when we next meet. And who knows? It may even be tonight.

Lots of love,

Greg