Whoever said that love is intoxicating was right.
I've been drunk on it two years now
and finally the effects are wearing off.
Like a beer and wine mixed hangover,
my depression hurts my head.
This is what I get, I guess,
for mixing love and religion
and confusing the two.
I was so drunk on love that it became my religion.
I might as well have been bowing down
before the object of my affection
for I regarded her almost as deity
and changed myself to be with her.
I convinced myself I had changed religions
for righteous reasons and not her.
Like a drunk man I didn't realize that I really was drunk.
People warned me not to change for her
but there's no reasoning with a drunk man--
especially when they are as stubborn as me.
I have slowly sobered to a painful head
finding myself completely not myself
as if I woke drunken in a strangers bed.
I gave up everything for my new religion
and I am, now, so unhappy for it.
I have learned my lesson the hard way
as the misery ever befalls me.
Perhaps next time I will pay heed
to the sober buddy next to me
who offers help when I cannot help myself.

*Written July 4th, 2002.