Saint Patrick's Amateur Hour

I'm walking through downtown.
It's very late.
It's amateur hour, or rather hours upon hours of it. 
People started drinking early for St. Patrick's and now they're falling down drunk.
For lack of a better word, they're zombies. Childish, infantile, impulsive zombies mired in a place I know all too well.

Some of them are having fun.
Most of them are fighting, arguing, risking DUI/arrest et cetera. Texting ex's, texting fallback dick/pussy, whatever.

I look up at the sky and wonder how she's doing.
I know where she is and I am not happy about it but given the nature of each of our situation's, it is what it is and being mad about it doesn't change that it's something we each have to accept and look to the day when it resolves.

I have to trust in the work I've done and ultimately, let go of my expectations.
She's a good woman, I trust her, and I can only cautiously hope for the best.

Inwardly, however, I arm myself against letdown by assuming, on some level, the worst case scenario.
You can only keep the girls you're willing to lose at any given time.
Like most of what you thought you know it's wrong.
I've picked up my rules over countless interactions with women and just adopted the rules based on observation, unmarred by romanticism or emotional proclivity.

I have a pocket full of cash.

The old me would have spent the day drinking from afternoon until now. I would have called out of work or shown up drunk and plotted how to get out early in time to rampage some more....who am I kidding?
I wouldn't have even considered going in to work on a patron saint's day for drinking.
In fact, a year ago today, I drove across town on one of the most ill-advised drinking days of the year to see my girlfriend in another part of downtown.

We fought, of course, after I spent much of the day avoiding her and drinking with friends for something like 12 hours.
This used to be my life.

I stop in a bar to see a good friend of mine. Inadvertently, I run into a guy I know from the *******. We chat it up and he's wasted-face, as he should be on this holiday. A girl is nearby and it's obvious she's considering fucking him. I do my best not to upset the delicate balance of such a precarious situation as she has friends in tow and I am a variable too late in the night to introduce without perhaps upsetting some logistics. That, and a girl in the group is the same nationality as my girl and I'm trying to behave these days. She's been gone a few days, I'm horny, my old ways are afoot, and I decide it best not to tempt myself.
My, how I have changed my stripes a tad.
--

Overall.....I don't miss that life. I'm tired from a long day of work and training but I am at peace. I don't have to make things different or more or better or more intense than they currently feel. I'm simply ready to eat some unhealthy food, and collapse into sleep after a day being productive.
I realize that now I know I can meet women without drinking, a big fear I had about cutting out alcohol has been relieved.

In addition, I don't have to run from things the way I did before.
I have peace in my life and for a man like me, that is a strangely precious commodity.
I never really believed in being at peace for much of my life. All I knew was the rollercoaster but I am eternally thankful I've gotten off the ride.
I turned in my tickets and got off finally. I tore down the rollercoaster, and I refuse to build another one for myself or for the people in my life.

If you're out there still riding the ride, it doesn't have to be that way if you don't want it to be.
Run its course if you wish, but when you're done, you can find peace.
I did and it has made all the difference.
I was done.
Completely finished.
I had nothing left with which to redline it like a madman.
It's not always easier this way, but it is better.

Good luck and happy hunting.
    - Yrs. in Christ