Dean is done with drink.
Problems with his gut.
Saves some pain,
probably saving his life.
Now he sees stuff a little more clearly.

The women he used to end up with
at Three AM,
he understand the phenomenon somewhat better now.
The friends he lost for no reason,
he’s found the reason.
And these days, he’s got an astonishing amount of pocket change
he never had before.

His clothes fit better.
He doesn’t get scratched up anymore
– nor do his shoes.
People seem to like him more.
He seems to like people more.
What is this twisted alchemy?

Maybe it doesn’t matter.
He’s just glad his gut doesn’t hurt.