I met an old lover at Christmas. I knew he would be there, waiting for me, and I knew I would run to his arms. I thought that he would embrace me the moment I arrived at my holiday destination and never let me go. He opened his arms to me, but I said no that first night. I had factored in the number of days I could love him, and still reach my 100 alcohol-free days before the end of the year, so I resisted. He didn't push me. We shared a kiss and a cuddle over the next few days, and I realised that, although I enjoyed his touch, I didn't crave it as I once did. I drank in his love, his warmth, the familiarity of his embrace, but I didn't let him overpower me and now, now that I am back in my own home, I am raising a final glass to him.
I love drink. I love drinking. I love the taste and the freedom.
I hate drink. I hate drinking. I hate the compulsion and the tyranny.
It was great to meet my old lover again and spend time with him, because I know now that he is no good for me. I can't live with him, and I can't live without him.
I know now that I want to live without him. He and I may have a one night stand from time to time, but I will never allow him to dominate me again.
I am grateful for having had this opportunity to sort out my feelings towards my lover, my drink, my bottle. I am grateful for the discovery that, although I love him, I love myself more, I love the person I can be without him, without my drink, without my bottle.
Step 1. I admit that I am powerless over alcohol.