There was a time I used to move with two
close friends. One was my former colleague at work, the other I met through an
old classmate. We were like brothers. We laughed, we chilled, we shared
moments. But looking back now, I realise I was slowly losing myself.
My first friend loved bottles. Green
bottles. He could drink and eat pepper soup like it was a competition. He
didn’t care whether his family had eaten or not. I didn’t drink like him, but I
loved hanging around “happening” guys, so I often ended up footing the bill. It
didn’t make sense, but that was life then.
My second guy is a mechanic. He makes good
money repairing cars. But sadly, most of it goes up in smoke. Literally. He
smokes like a chimney and is always high.
Then, life gave me a wake-up call. I was
diagnosed with high blood pressure. The doctor gave me medications and advice.
But I ignored it. I told myself alcohol helps the heart, at least temporarily.
But deep down, I knew I was lying to myself. My health was failing.
One day, I sat myself down and asked, “Is
this how I want to live the rest of my life?” That was my turning point.
I cut them off.
Not out of pride or hate — but for peace.
For life. For my wife and my family. I needed to grow. I needed clarity. And I
wasn’t getting younger.
They called. I didn’t answer. I knew what
they wanted — more drinks, more gist, more wasted time. But I had found
something better: peace of mind.
Now, I don’t have many friends. But I have
my family. I have my health. I have peace. And that is enough.
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