Ironic

During the process of marrying the alcohol I've pushed a lot of other people away. Most notably, ny family. My big, big family of my mother and my brother.

I've pushed them away because I couldn't stand the looks on their faces as I'd cross the living room to the ktichen in search of another beer.

In my mind I'd hear them judging me. Outside I'd hear nothing. Only meet with accusatory looks.

And I could never figure out if they pitied me or if they hated me for what I'd let myself become. Especially after so many years of hating the shit I'm now so in love with.

I'd say it's ironic, but that would be cliche. Every god damn thing in life is ironic.

Especially what we choose to kill ourselves with.