i held the beer in my hand, looking at it. i've drunk beer before, right? no big deal. just because i'm going to drink one beer doesn't mean i'm an alcoholic. i'm still clean, i'm still sober, i still make my father proud. yet, as i sipped the beer, as that last drop passed from the bottle into my throat, as i threw that bottle into the garbage can, i could feel my parents trust go with it. and as i picked up a second beer, a third, and even a fourth, i felt my dignity slip away. but then again, by that time i couldn't really feel much.

then it happened again the next night.

and again the one after that.