On May 16, 1993, perhaps around 10:30 or 11:00 o’clock in the evening,

I had my one and last beer and I haven’t touched a drop since.

I never realized that approximately two months later, the thing I quit would take the life of someone I loved very much.

This tragic death took a lot out of me and still affects me today, even though it happened about two years ago, because of the drinking I see almost daily.

What happened almost two years ago was never expected, because personally I felt it couldn’t happen to me, but it did.

When something like this happens it’s very hard to recover. You’d have to be in my shoes in order to get the feeling I get every now and then, and it’s not a good feeling when it comes back almost day after day.

I know this feeling will continue coming back, because even though I’ve quit drinking it still hurts me, and no one will ever know the hurt that’s inside me.

I know for a fact that I’m not the only person who feels this way, because booze hurts those people more who don’t use the stuff, because they deeply love the ones who are drinking and it hurts to see loved ones suffer.

I know the memories of what happened will continue to come back time after time, but I guess that’s how life is.

My only wish is if we had a dry community, life would be better and perhaps the hurt inside would gradually heal slowly.