Definitely Better Now

by Ava Robinson

I heard someone speak at a meeting once who said they finally felt really sober when they realized they wouldn’t drink if they were dying. That if a meteor was heading toward the earth and death was certain, they wouldn’t drink—even if they were alone, even if there was no one to catch them, even if there could never be a consequence. It could be them, the bottle, and the end, and it still wouldn’t matter. They didn’t want to anymore. That, they said, was true sobriety. No more counting days, no more counting years. No more anxiety when they walked past a liquor store.