You Can't Go Home Again

Totally random, but I'm writing a sliver of memoir at a friend's request, and this novel's title emerged in the story.

"That's just like drinking, I have to tell them" (r/stopdrinking). Since we're supposed to write from the “I” perspective, I cannot comment on the hundreds of posts I've read expressing a longing to return to the bottle: I can handle it now; it's been a year, imma gonna have a beer; I'm better; it would be so great to drink again; just a flute. Nopes, not for me, not today, not ever.

That home I remember is gone. Whatever it once was I've torn down. It was shoddily built, without foundation, expensive to maintain, and provided no reasonable shelter. My dragon gilds his lair, invites me back, but it's all a lie.

Thomas Wolfe: "You can't go back home to the escapes of time and memory." Or booze! #iwndwyt