Whiskey And Friendship Quotes

Oh, September! It is so soon for you to lose your friends to good work and strange loves and high ambitions. The sadness of that is too grown-up for you. Like whiskey and voting, it is a dangerous and heady business, as heavy as years. If I could keep your little tribe together forever, I would. I do so want to be generous. But some stories sprout bright vines that tendril off beyond our sight, carrying the folk we love best with them, and if I knew how to accept that with grace, I would share the secret.

slaying me all those years ago. For tossing over a decade’s worth of friendship and love in the garbage. Throwing me away like I was worthless.

I wasn’t sure if I’d kiss her or scream at her for slaying me all those years ago. For tossing over a decade’s worth of friendship and love in the garbage. Throwing me away like I was worthless.

What’s going on, chick?” she asks, taking a drink. She knows that when Johnnie comes out, something bad has happened. I suck on my teeth and shake my head. She cringes at the burn of whiskey, waiting for me to say more. I glance down at my bracelet. “My past caught up with me.” She slides the bottle back my way. “Need me to hurt someone?” she asks, dead serious. She and I are as close as friends come, and we have been since senior year of high school. And at the core of our friendship is a pact of sorts: nothing’s going to drag her towards the future she doesn’t want, and nothing’s going drag me back into the past I’ve worked to forget. Nothing. I huff out a laugh. “Eli’s already beaten you to it.” “Eli?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Girl, I’m hurt. Hoes before bros, remember?” “I didn’t ask him to get involved. I broke up with him, and then he got involve—” “What!” She grabs the table. “You broke up with him? When were you going to tell me?” “Today. I was going to tell you today.” She’s shaking her head. “Bitch, you should’ve called me.” “I was busy ending a relationship.” She falls back into her seat. “Shit girl, Eli’s going to stop giving us a discount.” “That’s what your most upset by?” I say, taking another swig of whiskey. “No,” she says. “I’m happy you grew a vagina and broke up with him. He deserves better.” “I’m going to throw this bottle of whiskey at you.” She holds her hands up to placate me. “I’m kidding. But seriously, are you okay?” I barely stop myself from looking at my computer screen again. I exhale. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue.

I wish you trusted me.” I scooted the whiskey bottle toward him. “I don’t trust anyone.” “That sounds lonely. You have to let people in. Let them love you for who you are, the good and the ugly. Then you know it’s real.

She smiled and leaned on him. It would have been nice to earn that smile. Nice to feel the trust, the partnership, the old friendship they had had. Nice to smile back, to reach out, and take her hand.

Dance with the Devil [Verse] Danced with the devil Shared my load of demons Up and down this dusty trail Hit rock bottom Climb my way out [Verse 2] Disappointed my old folks Friendships needed mendin' Hide from truth So I could find Find my honest self [Chorus] Cursed the sky cried out loud But in the end Just tried to stand proud Through the darkness Searched for my light In the chaos I found my fight [Verse 3] Whiskey on my breath Open wounds that bled Hollow promises made Struggled on that ledge Runnin' from my dread [Bridge] Scars from battles lost and won Emotions tangled like a knot Seems sometimes gotta be down To see the sun [Chorus] Cursed the sky cried out loud But in the end Just tried to stand proud Through the darkness Searched for my light In the chaos I found my fight

Girl," Vanessa said. "You're in an Irish bar. It wouldn't surprise me if they mixed whiskey with stout and tried to pass it as Chardonnay.

I haven’t been able to work on her. But after this morning, I figured my new bestie would be the perfect person to help me out with that. I fixed your pretty face, you can fix my pretty car. It’s the foundation of a lifelong friendship.

For years the psychic balm of alcohol—its holy grail certainty that it could take me through anything—eclipsed the hangovers and emerging fear that I was in trouble. I had a silver pocket flask that I filled with whiskey for backup drinks; I figured if I looked the part, then I could get away with the reality.

My fingers tightened on the wheel, my aching heart threatening to split. How I wanted to believe him, but I’d experienced this scenario too many times. No matter how friendly I was with coworkers or customers, once I lost my job and our only connection was severed, the friendships fizzled out in a matter of weeks.