Wall of Love
“I love booze,” Terry said. “I don’t want to give it up.”
“I used to love booze too,” I said. “I gave it up because booze didn’t love me back. Loving booze is like hitting a ball against a wall and saying you love playing tennis. You’re really not playing tennis, because the wall doesn’t participate. What’s worse, it doesn’t care. Hit the ball too hard and it goes flying. The wall won’t help you find it. Turn an ankle, the wall doesn’t notice. Have a stroke, and the wall won’t budge. Booze is like the wall, it doesn’t really love you back because it can’t.”
He nodded his head, but said, “I hear you, but I still love alcohol, even though I’ve run into the wall.”
Today I won’t hit the wall chasing someone or something that can’t love me back.
Life on Life’s Terms II © 2015 by Ken Montrose
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