(no subject)
Sometimes you think you are blindslided.
But the truth is, if you had pay attention, if you had trusted your gut, you realize you knew all along something wasn't right.
AKA Last Night. Birthday Dinner
Billy's birthday was this past weekend. It had come and gone without much recognition. And yesterday I was feeling guilty. Feeling guilty that I hadn't done much other than text him a happy bday.
Yes, it's true. Billy disappears for weeks on end, sometimes months, nursing his wicked meth addiction.
He's missed my bday, I don't even know how many times.
So, yesterday, I felt guilty about the bday slight but not too.
At the last minute, I offered to take him to dinner. This was on a Monday night. My least favorite night to go out. Everything about it was inconvenient...he doesn't have a car, he lives 40 minutes from me, I worked all day, he had slept until 3pm. I was already feeling very sad and tired.
But I've known the guy for decades and decades. Maybe no one knows me better than him and visa versa. So despite myself, I truly was happy to take him out to dinner.
Until...
He got in the car. I knew something was up.
He reeked. I mean, he smelled of everything. Alcohol, cigarettes, who knows what that nasty mystery smell is, sex maybe? My heart sank. So, let's see....I drove all the way out here, to spend time with my dear friend, only to have the addict jump in the car?
We drove on, chatting like normal. I was afraid to confront the obvious. Billy had relapsed. Again.
The dinner was uneventful until about the half way mark. He picked up his phone and starting texting someone. Or, maybe, many someone's. Ignoring me.
I stared at him. This was a sore point with BOTH of us, texting when we are together. We have an unspoked rule that we don't do it. But, yet, here he was, doing it.
At one point, I had mentioned to the waiter that it was his bday and I was going to pay. I gave him my credit card and the waiter smiled, excitedly, saying he would have the staff sing to him.
Great. Good. Wonderful. Let's keep pretending everything is okay when it's clearly going further and further south.
Billy texting, I'm feeling slighted. Worried. Pissed.
His phone rang. Billy jumped up, something he never has done, and literally ran out the door, yelling into the phone. Now it was clear. He was arranging a drug deal.
Cue the wait staff. As I watched Billy run out the front door, they came out with the happy little cake while I sat there looking at the empty seat.
Humiliatating, yes.
How many times do I have to go through this with him.
I left a huge tip, excused myself, and walked out to the car to leave. I didn't care where Billy was. I was leaving, he could go fuck himself.
He appeared out of nowhere, quietly walking next to me. At some point he stubbed his toe and started whining about it as he got into my car.
And, at that, I had a huge unexpected release. I laughed. I mean, whooping it up laughing, just sitting there laughing. AT him. I felt so much hatred and anger towards him and was so hurt, that I was very pleased that he was now in pain, that he stubbed his stupid druggie toe. Goodie. I'm glad you are hurt. Now we both are.
We started to drive away when one of his tricks called him.
Billy, frantically, asked me to take him back to the restaurant.
I asked why.
Because I want to meet someone there.
Okay, you fucking rude asshole. Let me take you back, absolutely.
Get out of my car, go suck and fuck yourself to death and do your drugs.
I was so tired. Just when I had almost believed in him again, that he is going to be better, that I have my friend back, he does this.
And that's his life.
42 years old. Unemployed for years.
Lives with a family of enablers.
And me. I guess I'm one of those enabler. Taking him back to the restaurant.
While driving home, I received a text from him.
Sorry. I had to get drugs.
I looked at it in disbelief. Of course I knew that was what happened but he never has admitted to me before. He is the man of a thousand excuses. Now he wasn't even bothering to lie to me anymore. That's how badly our relationship had deteriorated. This was something new.
Without hesitation, I typed my reply:
You showed me where I rank. Enjoy getting high.
I drove home, no radio, no music. Just alone with my thoughts.
It was so late, I was impossibly tired.
This was how I spent the birthday dinner with my bff.
Feeling humiliated and angry and, mostly, just sad.
I deleted him from facebook, deleted his number.
I don't deserve it. You choose your friends carefully in life. You choose people who get you and who you get back. People who lift you up, who make you feel understand and cared about and loved.
Not, this. This wasn't friendship.
As I drifted to sleep, I realized he hadn't thanked me for dinner.
I am an enabler.
Why did it take me so long to figure this out.
When you pick somebody up and they reek of chemicals, you politely ask them to get right out of the car. And to call you again when they are sober.
You don't drive on with the addict and this elephant in the car.
Today I've been limping around, feeling wounded and lost. Not just from Billy, it's from many things. But losing a friend is not fun.
I thought I had said goodbye to Billy before.
But then he went to prison, rehab, take your pick.
Came back clean.
And I got my friend back.
When will it ever end.
The hardest part of loving some one is to know when to let go and to know when to say good bye.
But the truth is, if you had pay attention, if you had trusted your gut, you realize you knew all along something wasn't right.
AKA Last Night. Birthday Dinner
Billy's birthday was this past weekend. It had come and gone without much recognition. And yesterday I was feeling guilty. Feeling guilty that I hadn't done much other than text him a happy bday.
Yes, it's true. Billy disappears for weeks on end, sometimes months, nursing his wicked meth addiction.
He's missed my bday, I don't even know how many times.
So, yesterday, I felt guilty about the bday slight but not too.
At the last minute, I offered to take him to dinner. This was on a Monday night. My least favorite night to go out. Everything about it was inconvenient...he doesn't have a car, he lives 40 minutes from me, I worked all day, he had slept until 3pm. I was already feeling very sad and tired.
But I've known the guy for decades and decades. Maybe no one knows me better than him and visa versa. So despite myself, I truly was happy to take him out to dinner.
Until...
He got in the car. I knew something was up.
He reeked. I mean, he smelled of everything. Alcohol, cigarettes, who knows what that nasty mystery smell is, sex maybe? My heart sank. So, let's see....I drove all the way out here, to spend time with my dear friend, only to have the addict jump in the car?
We drove on, chatting like normal. I was afraid to confront the obvious. Billy had relapsed. Again.
The dinner was uneventful until about the half way mark. He picked up his phone and starting texting someone. Or, maybe, many someone's. Ignoring me.
I stared at him. This was a sore point with BOTH of us, texting when we are together. We have an unspoked rule that we don't do it. But, yet, here he was, doing it.
At one point, I had mentioned to the waiter that it was his bday and I was going to pay. I gave him my credit card and the waiter smiled, excitedly, saying he would have the staff sing to him.
Great. Good. Wonderful. Let's keep pretending everything is okay when it's clearly going further and further south.
Billy texting, I'm feeling slighted. Worried. Pissed.
His phone rang. Billy jumped up, something he never has done, and literally ran out the door, yelling into the phone. Now it was clear. He was arranging a drug deal.
Cue the wait staff. As I watched Billy run out the front door, they came out with the happy little cake while I sat there looking at the empty seat.
Humiliatating, yes.
How many times do I have to go through this with him.
I left a huge tip, excused myself, and walked out to the car to leave. I didn't care where Billy was. I was leaving, he could go fuck himself.
He appeared out of nowhere, quietly walking next to me. At some point he stubbed his toe and started whining about it as he got into my car.
And, at that, I had a huge unexpected release. I laughed. I mean, whooping it up laughing, just sitting there laughing. AT him. I felt so much hatred and anger towards him and was so hurt, that I was very pleased that he was now in pain, that he stubbed his stupid druggie toe. Goodie. I'm glad you are hurt. Now we both are.
We started to drive away when one of his tricks called him.
Billy, frantically, asked me to take him back to the restaurant.
I asked why.
Because I want to meet someone there.
Okay, you fucking rude asshole. Let me take you back, absolutely.
Get out of my car, go suck and fuck yourself to death and do your drugs.
I was so tired. Just when I had almost believed in him again, that he is going to be better, that I have my friend back, he does this.
And that's his life.
42 years old. Unemployed for years.
Lives with a family of enablers.
And me. I guess I'm one of those enabler. Taking him back to the restaurant.
While driving home, I received a text from him.
Sorry. I had to get drugs.
I looked at it in disbelief. Of course I knew that was what happened but he never has admitted to me before. He is the man of a thousand excuses. Now he wasn't even bothering to lie to me anymore. That's how badly our relationship had deteriorated. This was something new.
Without hesitation, I typed my reply:
You showed me where I rank. Enjoy getting high.
I drove home, no radio, no music. Just alone with my thoughts.
It was so late, I was impossibly tired.
This was how I spent the birthday dinner with my bff.
Feeling humiliated and angry and, mostly, just sad.
I deleted him from facebook, deleted his number.
I don't deserve it. You choose your friends carefully in life. You choose people who get you and who you get back. People who lift you up, who make you feel understand and cared about and loved.
Not, this. This wasn't friendship.
As I drifted to sleep, I realized he hadn't thanked me for dinner.
I am an enabler.
Why did it take me so long to figure this out.
When you pick somebody up and they reek of chemicals, you politely ask them to get right out of the car. And to call you again when they are sober.
You don't drive on with the addict and this elephant in the car.
Today I've been limping around, feeling wounded and lost. Not just from Billy, it's from many things. But losing a friend is not fun.
I thought I had said goodbye to Billy before.
But then he went to prison, rehab, take your pick.
Came back clean.
And I got my friend back.
When will it ever end.
The hardest part of loving some one is to know when to let go and to know when to say good bye.