Drinking up is hard to do

I do love you, so very much.

See that bottle over there on the right? That's the last bottle of my first batch of homebrew. The last one. I'm feeling a wee bit broken-hearted.

This bottle marks the end of my first brew, and, you know, we've had a bit of a thing going these past few weeks. You always remember your first brew, they say, and it's true.

Should I drink it now, just be done with it? End the whole affair? Or should I leave it, let things linger, maybe drink it in a month, or two, see how those extra few weeks help? What happens if they don't though? What happens if it sours things?

It started simple enough, just me and a tin. Then the fermenting barrel got involved - that complicated things I tell you. The yeast helped, I 'spose. Forgetting the sugar didn't. Like birthday flowers a day late, adding a sugar solution certainly helped mend things, but it wasn't quite enough. The damage was done. The cracks were there. I thought we were over.

But we persevered. We gave each other a bit of space for a few weeks. That time spent conditioning was like a salve for us.

Three weeks and we tried again. There was, sure, a spark, but something was missing. We limped on. Tried again a week later, and wow. Beer that wasn't disgusting. Beer that was, you know, drinkable. That respected you in the morning. Beer that, err, went down on you. 

Things got bubbly, exciting. I thought, you know, it might have been love. That this was the one. Sure, the "sugar" thing came up – the occasional bottle seemed a wee bit flat or insipid or sour – but it's nothing we couldn't work through ... Only, we've run out of time. This bottle here is the last one. My last one. And now I have to decide.

I know I have to move on. I know there are plenty more brews in the sea, but, well, drinking up is hard to do.