Page 91 of A Love Letter to Whiske

“Why have I always seen him as an addiction? As a bad thing?”

Jenna leaned into me, stealing the bottle I had yet to drink from since the last time she passed it. “Sometimes we’re more terrified of the good things in life than we are of the bad. We feel we don’t deserve them, or that they aren’t real, that they’ll disappear quickly and easily and we’ll be left in the ruins.”

She was right, and I smiled at the clarity of it all. Jamie had always been a natural urge for me, but I’d labeled him as the bad kind — as something I should be ashamed of or something that had the power to ruin me. But the truth couldn’t be further from that.

“He’s not an addiction,” I whispered. “He’s an inclination.”

Jenna smiled, tilting the bottle of whiskey back toward me. “So, what now?”

THE NEXT MORNING,while Jenna was still fast asleep in my bed, I sat down at my laptop, and I started writing.

I started writing my love letter to Whiskey.

I started writing the book you’re reading now.

The honest, hard to read and even harder to write account of my eleven-year addiction to Whiskey.

I know I’ve put you, as a reader, through a lot. Maybe through too much. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me right now, because the truth is there are more than a few times in my life where I made the wrong decision. I am flawed, and though I know it was hard to read, I’m not sorry for telling the truth. I’m not ashamed of my path. In a way, I think it’s about figuring out who we are through the mistakes we make.

I know who I am. And I know who I need.

So, Whiskey, if you’re reading this, I hope now you understand. We’ve always blamed timing, but the timing has always been right — we just never listened.

Up until this point, I’ve never fought hard enough. But if you give me the chance, I’ll fight every single day of our lives together. I’ll go to battle for you, and I’ll win the war in the end.

You asked me for one day, but one day never came. You asked me to choose you, and I never did. You asked me to be with you, and I never was.

But now, it’s our time.

One day is here, and I choose you. I’ve never been anyone else’s but yours, and I never want that to change.

Now, you just have to choose me, too.

I’m sorry that up until now, I saw you as something I should quit instead of something I should fight for.

My heart is, always has been, and always will be yours.

By the time I finish this, by the time you maybe,hopefullyread it, you’ll be on the cusp of your thirtieth birthday. I don’t know where you are, I don’t know who you’re with, but I hope you remember. I hope you remember our drives. I hope you remember our days on the water, our nights in the sand, our wasted time and the minutes we cherished. More than anything, I hope you remember the pact you made to a wide-eyed girl eleven years ago.

I’ve hurt you. You’ve hurt me. I don’t deserve you, and you’ve always deserved me. You don’t have to forgive me, you don’t have to leave the past behind, but I’m asking you to, anyway.

This is my love letter to you… everything I have is in these pages. Now the pen is in your hand.

Come find me, Whiskey.

I’ll be waiting.

The End.