Me and only me.

Slowly, the distance grows between me and my last drink.

I’m lying on my bed, thinking back over the day and its simple pleasures. Walking the dog in the morning and basking in the crispness of the air and the pale beauty of the morning sun. Cycling to work, whizzing down a hill, clinging onto the handlebars for dear life, feeling like a girl again. Eyes wide, daring to giggle as I go over the bumps.

Soon, I will sleep. My early night, every night, is non-negotiable and I am rewarded consistently with the richest, deepest sleep I’ve ever enjoyed in my adult life.

If I am lucky, I will have another of my recurring dreams where I travel from place to place, back and forth between times in my life. Perhaps I will have one of those beautiful  dreams in which it is always twilight and where I seek out hidden swimming pools and lie in them, immersed in infinite freedom.

Simple pleasures, intensified by sobriety. It is enough and I am enough. This is me, and only me: who I was, who I am, who I will be.

— Sister Temperance  

  

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