Drunk Thoughts Are Sober Novels & Stories

“Ezra…” “I know I’m drunk, and maybe tomorrow you’ll think it doesn’t count because of that.” I grabbed her hand, holding it like it was the only lifeline I had. “But it’s the only time I have the courage to say it. Sober me is a coward. Sober me keeps pushing you away but drunk me……” I let out a broken laugh. “Drunk me just wants you to know the truth.” Her hand didn’t pull away. That tiny detail nearly undid me.

My head falls forward and I cry, I feel him pulling my head up. “I get it. Being drunk helps stop the nightmares, the visions, and the thoughts. You feel like you’re winning the battle, sure, alcohol, drugs and sex help, and you’re finally able to beat it. Well, you haven’t beaten it, Raven, you just numbed it. You made it worse.” “Fuck you! You can’t stop me.” He can’t, I can leave now.

Is this part of their date? So he can go on dates but as soon as I mention Mr Shard, then there is a problem. What sort of husband, the one he claims to be goes out on dates, forgetting that he is mar----' I quickly look away and down the last shot, pushing the rest of those disturbing thoughts at the back of my mind. What is wrong with me? Those were not sane thoughts. Those were drunk influenced, nonsense thoughts. ' Should I get two more, to drown it out completely?'

CHAPTER 111 ROB’S POV The sharp pain shooting through my skull drives me awake earlier than I expected. My hand clutching my forehead tightly as though the pain would magically go away. Just when I’d thought I was already better last night. “You need to cut down on drinking, Rob.” I mutter quitely, even though I find myself chuckling seconds later. Drinking was the only way I could cut myself out of some shitty reality. Maybe when I finally found a reason to remain sober, I would.

ADAM VAUGH I first open an eye and after a few seconds the other one, the lights bother me, my head throbs as if a heavy metal band was playing an inferno guitar solo on my temple. I’ll never drink like this again, getting wasted definitely doesn’t agree with me, I spend thirty five years without getting drunk once and now I can figure out the real motive: I’m an intelligent guy, I was right in being sober. The wet umbrella taste in my mouth, the sore muscles as if they had been crushed in a grinder. Anyway, all this torture after a drinking day, it’s definitely not for me.

I said as we strolled to the table. King scoffed, filling the new glasses. He brought one to me but before I could take it, he took it back. “You’re not going to change the subject. It’s one o’clock. Getting drunk this early isn’t advised and you don’t do things likely,” he said. “You know I’m right about him.” The glass make a loud clank as he dropped it on the table. “A good drink is never bad, is it?” King wasn’t buying it. Well, I tried. I grabbed a glass before he could stop me, chugging it down. “Being sober isn’t helping me think straight,” I confessed. “I need to do something but I don’t know what and I still doubt myself.”

This isn’t going to spoil my plans of securing my future. I gulped down another cup, filling the third one when she stopped me with her words. “Hey, you should reduce how you drink. This isn’t your pack, our wine is very toxic and it could make things messy in your mind” “I don’t mind having multiple cups, there’s a lot on my mind I need to get off my mind, and getting drunk is the only way I get to forget those thoughts” I sighed wearing a smile on my face. “If you want to get drunk just wait then.” She conceded to my words, hurriedly got to the door, and ordered,

"...people like me." 'People like me? He thought, what was that supposed to mean?' Is the saying true that the words of a drunk man words are his sober thoughts? If he isn't speaking gibberish that is. He stared at her lips about to do something stupid, something she would probably regret when she was sober. "I hope you won't remember this when you wake." Then he kissed her. ___

Anna gives her a confused look. “That’s the sip of someone who wants to get drunk and not think about something,” Sophia says. “You missed your vocation, you should have been a bloody psychiatrist,” Anna tells her. “No, I’m just observant. I’ve been watching you drink the past week. And I noticed that there are times when you seem to drift away into your thoughts then when you snap back and there’s alcohol nearby you drink with the intact getting drunk, like whatever you were thinking about made you feel some sort of way and you need to feel good again,”

A man empty of life, of joy. “Not very much. Enough to feel guilty.” He clears his throat sharply before his fork clangs against his plate. “Why? Did I say something stupid? You know, you can’t trust what a person says when they’re drunk. A person’s rational thought process isn’t there.” He forgets I went to college, though he’s probably so deep in denial that he never imagined me going to parties. Like, I don’t know what it’s like to be drunk. Like, I don’t know that a person is far more honest when intoxicated than sober. Rational thoughts make you lie; when you're drunk, the truth pours out.