For a time, I found my spirit in bottles. The potion brought me alive transforming me in to a lover of life. My love of dance would reignite and I would feel like a little girl dancing in circles again. The liquor allowed my walls to fall down and let people approach me. Encouraged by the liquid in a tiny glass, I became a spectacle, and less aware of myself. The constant paranoia of what everyone thought disappeared and my inhibitions were countered. Everyone was a friend and food was a holy grail. The little green fairy on my shoulder always egging me on to go one step further: kiss one more boy, have another shot, dance on to a higher table. People were interested in me but not the real me, the me brought out after too many bombs that exploded inside me. An energy rush like no other and we called it a party. A celebration of life. But for me, it was a celebration of everything I had become, how far I was from those who made my days hell. Little did I know, the alcohol could too.
