It's time to come to terms with this, to come to terms with you. No more underestimating this addiction. No more trying to justify emotion with solution, and I will keep myself from walking the same path. A decade of realizing your faults and blaming them on your addictions, an easy way to keep me elevated, an easy way to keep me from becoming you. I’ve sorted through all your excuses. I found your malfunction is internal. I had to force myself to see we are alike. You’re just like me. Slide into a routine of liquid lullabies, never to awake again. I won’t make your same mistakes. I won’t let these traits dissolve me. Old blood ran thin with liquor, yet thick with compassion. Driven by a heart that never stopped hurting. It runs through you and you’re too weak to see that such a minor change could mean an end to your dependency. At this rate, your heart will fail, and even people who are wasted have heart attacks. This is the worst of me. This is the worst of you. This is the only thing I share with you.