I want to laugh again

 I want to laugh again like I used to do back once upon a life.

Fun-filled packed bars with music and laughter that went on all night, leaving you wiped out the next morning that came with two hours of sleep and a mad dash to get to work feeling like crap and looking even worse.

It wasn't difficult to spot your fellow party partners. They were slumped over their desks, rolling their eyes at you as if to say never again. But you knew that was a lie.

It's hard to give up a lifestyle, especially when the consequences of your choices hit you in the face on any typical day. A pain in your arm and the tightening in your chest bought you a ride in an ambulance and the feeling of being scared for the first time in your life.

Your life was never the same after that scare. No more booze, no more foods you loved, and daily exercise you thought was worse than the heart attack itself.

Then, the truth presented itself when you stopped going to your favorite bar, and nobody missed you or at least didn't check up on you. You were out of sight, out of mind, in proper fashion. A few days after your attack, you received a card in your mailbox stained with spilled beer and the oils of peanuts and several lipstick kisses with a name below each one. It was a subtle reminder that your only friends were the day drinkers who spilled into the night, some asking how you were doing and then ordering another shot without any more talk about you. Your life as you knew it ended right there, and then you realized your life was nothing more than people who drowned their troubles until they were gone for a few hours of fun and laughter in a smoke-filled room.

The years passed, and you've been sober for a decade. You stayed away from your old watering holes but did enjoy a nice night out with a new friend who has also been clean for some time now. I suppose there is life after booze, but you have to seek it out carefully so you don't disturb the forces around you to retake control and lead you back down that path you once walked or maybe stumbled.

I laugh again now, more so than I ever did. My mind and body still feel the effects of the abuse I put upon myself, but all the changes I went through were and still are the best life choices I made, and  I stick to that one day at a time.

This story is a self-portrait of my younger life, not just a story. I can still smell the smoke that filled the bar, hear the music, and sometimes wish I could have one more time doing all the crazy things I did. That brings the biggest smile I can muster, but I know it's not to be. Hell, I'd need a bib at my age so I didn't stain my shirt, earplugs to keep me from going deaf, and an Uber waiting outside because I gave up my driver's license ages ago. Life is a bitch, but it wasn't always that way.

Mike 2025