This Morning
This morning, I woke with a hangover—
last night’s excess still burning in my veins.
I drank too deep, trying to drown
the sorrows that clung like shadows.
A splitting headache,
my head a carousel of pain,
my body heavy, drowsy,
lousy with regret.
So, I brewed my antidote:
a tall glass of black coffee,
sweet as sin, hot as hell,
laced with thirty milliliters of Remi Martin XO.
The medicine worked swiftly—
I rose, steadied, ready to face the day.
Before the Fall
I was not always this man.
I lived clean, ate well,
my body strong, my spirit fit.
My business thrived,
money flowed like a river.
But then the world stopped.
COVID struck, the country locked down,
and my business crumbled to dust.
Banks knocked at my door,
clamoring for debts unpaid.
Sleep fled; drink became my refuge.
Each morning brought headaches,
each night a deeper ruin.
Her Arrival
It was then she appeared—
my schoolmate, my best friend.
One evening she found me with the bottle,
took it from my hand,
and I did not protest.
She asked, and I told my story.
She said nothing, only listened
as I vented, whined, and sobbed.
Before leaving, she promised:
“I’ll come tomorrow.”
And she did.
She walked me to the bank,
won me six months’ grace.
Then she offered partnership—
I gave her half my business,
and together we began again.
Resurrection
With her beside me,
the doom dissolved.
I stopped drinking,
returned to health.
We built new strategies,
clients returned,
business bloomed once more.
And as the business rose,
so did our love.
Best friends became lovers,
lovers became partners for life.
Two years later, I asked,
she said yes,
and we wed among family and friends.
Now
Three years married,
a son in our arms,
a daughter on her way.
Our days are full,
our love stronger than ever.
I am eternally grateful to her—
for saving me, for giving me back my life.
And what a life it is:
a good life,
a life worth living.
