My love affair with whiskey - Heather Kennedy

My love affair with whiskey stemmed from a deep, black loneliness in the winter of 2006. The kind of loneliness where you sleep on your couch with the TV on every night because your bedroom is just so empty. I learned that whiskey warmed me from the inside out, like a thick hug and a shoulder rub.
Pretty soon, whiskey and I were hanging out all the time, spending every night together. Whiskey was my right-hand-man. He made me bold and fearless. He made me want to show my cleavage, fight bad guys and drive real fast. When I was at work, I missed whiskey and thought about him all day. I couldn't wait to get home to his embrace again. Whiskey made being alone...okay.
But whiskey wasn't made of roses and chocolates. Whiskey abused me. He was destructive. Some days, I woke up wanting to die. Whiskey hurt my organs and made me sick with stomach acid and blood. I couldn't eat, I lost weight. I went to the doctor and asked her to fix me, so I could drink whiskey again. But the damage was done.
In the end, all I was to whiskey was a cheap date. I guess whiskey needed his freedom, didn't want to be anchored down. I was too clingy. He moved on, as did I. When I look back now I know it was for the best.