A wish for wings that worked

My mouth is throbbing. No booze is not enough - it's not enough to not hurt, it's not enough to not wake up dry and feeling hungover every morning, it's not enough to not forget most of everything that happened the night before. It makes me feel like it's pointless to have stopped.

Except, of course, it's not. I'm enjoying this. Enjoying the power, the control. I feel like I'm getting away with something. Or hiding from somebody.

Sometimes I say I just want to be able to drink like a normal adult, not binge drink, but that's not true. I love the steady flow of cup to mouth, no breaks. Drink til it's done, whatever done has come to mean on that particular night.

Tonight, it's what I want. Except now when I get the urge to drink my face off, I don't. I don't know why. It's like I don't get around to it or something. It's too much work. The headache comes on too fast. I've lost my tolerance, and I know how bad it will feel before I get it back. But no, it has nothing to do with that. I don't care what it will feel like later. It seems like an old trick that I know won't work anymore. I could try, but I know it just wouldn't be the same.