It was March, two years ago. The proverbial rock bottom. It's the only secret that I still cling to from those days, my very last drinking days. I knew, then, with the horrifying clarity of a funeral for a loved one, that I was done, that I could never touch the stuff again, that I had once and for all crossed that forbidden line. March brings with it the memories of those events, those charred visions of me at my worst. They're scary. But this song popped on at work today, and I understood that it had to be this way forever -- that I always have to remember those days.
"I wrecked the El Camino
Would have been DWI
So I just walked off and left it
Laying on it's side.
The troopers found it in the morning
They said it's purely luck I wasn't killed
I probably ought to quit my drinking
But I don't believe I will."
James McMurtry, "Rachel's Song"
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