Nobody told me about the growing pains of getting sober.

The ache, the satisfaction, of stretching and settling into myself.

The painful nostalgia revisiting the frantic fever dream that was the before, the sheer relief that I don’t live there anymore.

The pride, the goddamn pride I feel knowing that finally, fucking finally, I meet the standards for decent human being, that actually I’m a pretty good one.

I delight in myself. With me is a nice place to be.