Another Drink
I storm off into another room, biting my lip against tears and the torrent of cruel, vile accusations and insults that hover on the tip of my tongue. I can't decide whether I love him or hate him, and it's making for more stress and conflict than one human being can handle.
I lose respect for him in moments like this, when he's been drinking all day, and the sliver of that man I used to know is gone, taken over by a temperamental, childish alcoholic. The few of my friends he's met can barely stand him, and I'll never forget the words of one of them. She had known an alcoholic in her time who had recovered. "I want to say something but at the same time, I don't want to get hit." The idea that she believes that after knowing him is appalling. I don't know whether or not I'm more disgusted with the idea, or with him for making her believe that he would do that.
I sneak into the bathroom to wipe off tear tracks and eyeliner that's on my cheeks now, but they keep coming.
I feel sick.
I lose respect for him in moments like this, when he's been drinking all day, and the sliver of that man I used to know is gone, taken over by a temperamental, childish alcoholic. The few of my friends he's met can barely stand him, and I'll never forget the words of one of them. She had known an alcoholic in her time who had recovered. "I want to say something but at the same time, I don't want to get hit." The idea that she believes that after knowing him is appalling. I don't know whether or not I'm more disgusted with the idea, or with him for making her believe that he would do that.
I sneak into the bathroom to wipe off tear tracks and eyeliner that's on my cheeks now, but they keep coming.
I feel sick.