New Perspective

It's weeks—no, months—before I feel ready enough to have a sip of alcohol again. Moons until I can be close with Billowing Beauty the way I want to again. But she's kind, kinder than I expect despite the circumstances, and doesn't push me

A month goes by where I have nightmares, a year where the wrong thing—the wrong thought—can trigger a crying episode from me. Another where I can barely exist on the day it happened. But it gets better. Slowly but surely, I move on. To the point where the terrible anniversary is just another day in a life.

I don't forget, but I do let go. It's hard to do, but Billowing Breeze helps me. Even in spite of what happened, I'm still me. I was me all along, before and after. I can tell myself that it's not my fault, and actually believe it. I can do the things I used to do and get by. It's not my fault, or the situation's fault, or even the fault of the alcohol. It's the fault of one bad pony who did a terrible thing.

But I can close my eyes and slowly let it go. I wonder if they can do the same.