because I don't want to drink

it was a friday night. most of them were on the dancing floor. they were singing along to the songs I didn't recognize. annoying colorful lights were running over them. they might imagine they were having fun. maybe they might actually be having fun.

everyone but me was drunk. because they forced everyone to drink. because they needed to be drunk to enjoy the noises they called music. because they needed to be drunk to forget the dystopian reality they created by going to work everyday. many of them were more drunk than they should be. I'd never understand the convention of exploiting alcohol on a specific weekday. what did alcohol do to them to be disrespected like that?

"you're not drinking? why not?"

"because I don't want to drink."

it was true. I didn't find it strange that they immediately gave up trying to force me to drink. many people gave better reasons why they didn't want to drink and they didn't accept them. everyone but me had to drink.

"you're not drinking? why not?"

"because I don't want to drink."

I couldn't count how many times I was asked to drink but I successfully and politely declined everytime. I was the only one capable of doing it.

"you're not drinking? why not?"

"because I don't want to drink."

although they didn't accept other people's reasons why they didn't want to drink, I genuinely believed they were telling the truth for the first time in a long while. they had to drink nonetheless. for they feared not fitting in. isn't alcohol a potion engineered by adults for adults to act like big children?

"you're not drinking? why not?"

"because I don't want to drink."

did I not fear not fitting in? of course I feared not fitting in just like everyone else. the difference was I never belonged anywhere and I was used to not fitting in. they had to accept that I didn't want to drink because even I myself accepted myself.

"you're not drinking? why not?"

"because I don't want to drink."

I did have a very intimate relationship with alcohol. my dad was a very respectful alcoholic. he drank every day very faithfully, save a few days, since the day I was born til the last day he was capable of standing up. he drank when he was happy (that I was born). he drank when he was depressed. he drank when he was cheerful. he was the only drunkard I've met that didn't disrespect alcohol. unlike all those cowards dancing in front of me.

it's true he started drinking when I was born and he might not have started drinking if I'd never been born. but my birth was never the reason. because I'm sure he wouldn't quit drinking if I undid my birth by killing myself.

he was drinking everyday for no reason. just like a truly religious person would faithfully say prayers everyday. he wasn't taking advantage of alcohol. he wasn't drinking for something or to escape from something. I used to believe his alcoholism was just a symptom of things he had to go through - his dad was murdered when he was like 16 and had to lead his family himself and had to sacrifice the possible chance of a convenient life - and not the root cause of things we had to go through. it might still be true. but it'd be a disrespectful way to describe his alcoholism. it was something so profound. it was something so much more.

people always said that I would hate alcohol and I wouldn't want to drink at all since I was a child because I had no choice but to see the violent terror of alcoholism. as if I was a coward like them. I never intended to cause any terror just because I had to experience it. but I'd never be coward enough to run away from the terror either. there were months I didn't miss drinking a day. I never got violent like my dad. I only became a nicer and more friendly version of myself. but why did I need to be nicer or more friendly? why was I not enough? I wasn't hiding behind anything.

I grew up my whole life being blamed for being the cause of my dad's downfall. I'd never be capable of comprehending their victim blaming logic. if anything, he found something he'd faithfully commit to the rest of his life and something he'd never betray when I was born. I gave him a gift nobody else could.

"you're not drinking? why not?"

"because I don't want to drink."

of course I feared the terror of alcoholism. but I wasn't a coward and I embraced alcohol and alcoholism. alcohol was literally the friend I had since I was born. I could sympathize with alcoholics better than anyone. you wouldn't want to exploit your friend, would you?

"you're not drinking? why not?"

"because I don't want to drink."

there were only a finite number of humans in the world and they would stop asking eventually. I was just thankful they respected my words and didn't force me to do anything like they violated others. I felt bad for them but I had no power to force others to not force others, did I?

"you're not drinking? why not?"

to live is to suffer. I wanted to live. I had no choice but to suffer. I didn't need alcohol to avoid suffering. I didn't want to avoid suffering - no matter how inconvenient it got. I was more stubborn than my dad. I didn't always enjoy suffering but I wanted to suffer in the most natural way possible. I just politely replied, again, like an anti-vaxxer declining to be vaccinated,

"because I don't want to drink."