Slowly and painfully opening his eyes, the morning sun burning into them, he looks around, wondering where he is.The pounding in his head, like an off tune marching band. Lying in a puddle of his own urine and puke, and an assortment of bottles from the night before.
Finally realizing the stereo is still blasting away, and thankful he hasn't any close neighbors, he rises slowly and makes his way to turn it off.
Today will be different, so he says to himself, and funny, but it never is.He has repeated this little saying day after day, and yet it has always turned back to a repeat performance.
He now makes his way to his dirty little bathroom. After relieving himself, he strips off his soiled clothes, and turns on the shower, the steam rising from the hot water, he climbs in gingerly, and lets the first blast of the too hot water hit him.He always has the water boiling, as if it will not only wash away the grime, but cleanse the dirt and filth he feels within his body as well.
The shower is his little haven, he can let the tears of hopelessness fall freely down his face, and if anyone was looking, they wouldn't know, they would think it was just the water from the shower, but the huge sobs, he couldn't hide, maybe a poorly sung song?
Finally finishing his crying and sobbing, and feeling a little cleaner, at least on the outside, he makes his way to the bedroom.Digging through his clothes, he finally decides on the outfit for the day, and dresses.
What will today bring, he wonders? Nothing good, he is quite sure of that. Nothing good ever seems to find him, at least not lately. He still remembers the "good old days", that was when "They" still loved him and looked up to him. "they" left eventually.That was when he realized that his drinking was more important then "they" had been. He had promised time and time again he would quit. He never did.He tried to hide it, but once again, he had only been fooling himself.
He still had their pictures, at least they had left some of those. He always bragged to his buddies about his "boys". His boys were all grown now, and didn't even have his phone number, nor did they want it.
"she" had moved on, to a better man, one who loved her, and life. Oh, she was a beautiful woman when they had been together, she still held a lot of that outer beauty too! He had seen her many times, after all, it was a small town.She had an inner beauty as well. She had strength as well, where as he was weak, and had given up all too easily.
Well so much for his reminiscing for the day. After all, it was past noon, the liquor store was open, and he was starting to feel sorry for himself again!