my name is …

December 20, 2007 at 7:09 am Leave a comment

he hides behind a whiskey bottle though i’ve no idea what he’s hiding from. according to him he has no problem. the job market and injury are to blame for his unemployment. his wife is simply hormonal and manic for taking the kids and leaving just mere weeks before christmas. he can do no wrong. it’s everyone else that holds him back. is that what the world looks like through the bottle of jack hiding under his couch cushion?

she knows she has a problem. it’s almost a bad joke at this point. a 12 pack of natty light is as every day as the office she goes to and the household she manages. she talks about it openly. but doesn’t quite feel the need to do anything about it. she’s been functioning for years and it’s to be enjoyed. life is a party. is that what she was thinking as she stared at the ceiling of the jail cell she called me from at 3 a.m. this morning?

on date 3 he told me why he orders ice tea.  she was cheating on him. somehow while he was busy his world had collapsed around him. the touch of his wife. the laughter of his children. the void left by their departure was too easily filled with a few extra drinks. it wasn’t long before the man looking back at him from the mirror was one he didn’t recognize and one he didn’t like. it’s been a year and a half since he’s touched the bottle to his lips.

i love a good glass of wine. hell, sometimes i even like a cheap bottle of wine. and given a shitty day i’m apt to visit my old amigo jose cuervo. i tiptoe the line of possibility of being more than a casual drinker. so what is it that keeps me from tumbling off a wagon i refuse to climb aboard? more importantly how do i help those i love when i’ve little understanding of that level of lack of self control.

he’ll spend christmas with the threat of divorce lingering in the air. i want to tell him to get off his sorry ass and make a change but i know he needs to hear that i love him and it will all be ok. she’ll spend her birthday nursing one hell of a hangover. i’ll want to curse her for introducing me to the bondsman i’m apt to meet later today but i know she needs to hear she’s my best friend and i’m here no matter what.

how do i bite my tongue and should i even try to? would the brutal honesty i’m tempted to release be merely wasted breath that aims to alienate. is it fair for me to ask him to help me understand. can his still somewhat recent sobriety withstand the burden of alcoholism that follows me in to our potential relationship.

my name is sister of an alcoholic.
my name is best friend of an alcoholic.
my name is lover of an alcoholic.

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Entry filed under: relationships. Tags: , , , , .

firsts ms. independent

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