It's Been a Weird Month, I Like It

   So, I am about 32 hours away from a full, alcohol free(among other things), month. This month has proved to be surprising, eye opening, and rewarding. Physical and mental health have never been a top priority of mine. Those two topics, in my life, have been approached with a kind of battlefield like sensibility. "Kill 'em all, and let God sort 'em out." Well, yesterday was my first, full, three mile run. I've been to numerous bars, and been able to keep up with my drinking counterparts. My artwork is making leaps that I never thought possible. My whole style and technique have evolved. "Changing" was a word that kept coming to mind, but "evolved" sounds more accurate. Also, I have been taking care to dress, more like the adult man that I am.
   "Are you going out to a nice dinner", my ex-wife asked me, on Saturday, in a slightly condescending tone.
   "No, mom, this is just how he dresses, when he's not working in the yard, or on the Jeep", my son chimed in defense.
   "Well, you look nice", I hate my ex-wife, but the compliment was appreciated. Sitting here, I am still wondering what is coming of this. I think I've pretty much resolved that this is not going to be my last sober month. Dare I say, that I like it.
   I like that I can hold conversations over drinks and feel like I'm making a linear point. I like that I can drive anywhere, whenever I want, and I dare the fucking pigs to pull me over. Also, the fact that there is no worry about getting anyone else home safely, that makes me feel proud. I like that I have lost weight. I like that I feel motivated. I like that I feel......well....that I feel more. I like that I have regained my posture. I like that I feel power over myself. I like the fact that I don't have to worry about "whiskey dick", at all.
   "You look younger", he exclaimed as we walked down the sidewalk.
   "What? Seriously?" That came from left field. My son is a typical moody, brooding teenager. Things like this don't usually come out of his mouth.
   "You look fucking good. You look.....and I know this sounds strange, but you look happy?" I could tell this was almost gut-wrenching for him, as it came out of his mouth.
   "Thank you, really. Thank you", I brushed myself off in a Jay-Z fashion, smoothing out my dress shirt and tie. It was Sunday. Slung my arm around his shoulder, in a half hearted headlock.
   It's this that I love.
   It's this that I want.
   It's this, that I want noticed.