Drip. Drip. Drip
It had been going on for a week. If I coud fix the faucet myself...
He was always good at those things. Faucet dripping? A/C broken? Bathroom drain clogged? He could fix it faster than he could break your heart. I just thought it would never be my heart.
I guess he didn't have a choice. I guess I have choice. But all I do is lay here on the bed we once layed on together. Listening to...
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Before it was the two of us, it was just me. I never fixed anything, and left it the way it was. I could never bring myself to repair anything, it was always replace or run away. Run away from that dripping faucet, run away from that day, run away from...
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It's constant. Like the narrative in your head, when you're trying to process a tragedy adn it feels like your thoughts are going faster than a train on a deadline. Or maybe your brain just shuts down. But whatever you're doing, you're not actually facing it. You're avoiding it. You're avoiding donating the clothes, you're avoiding talking to friends and family, you're avoiding breaking down. And if you actually stopped, stopped and looked at yourself, you could maybe see...
Drip. Drip. Drip.
But one day you accidentally catch a glance at yourself in the mirror in your desheveled house and see your body to match the state. The bun your hair was in is now everyone on your head like someone rubbed a balloon on it. Your eyes look like they haven't connected to someone in a thousand years. And your skin looks like dirty snow. So you decide to fix the faucet. And maybe fix...
Silence.
100 Days
Day 100
I don’t remember drinking last night. I couldn’t have because I’ve been sober for 100 days exactly. I had just spent the first half my day at a meeting and then the remainder of the day on my deck with a case of non alcoholic beer. My memory goes all the way back to until I went to the convenience store around the corner, which was almost too convenient as the sign said 48 hours open instead of the usual 24.
I had just moved into my current neighborhood around the corner from the convenience store a week before, on my 93rd day. It was supposed to be a fresh start. But somehow I had destroyed that.
I have all the familiar signs of binge drinking from the night before. The headache, body aches, fuzziness, and regret and hatred for my own existence. All that surrounds me in my state of failure is sand and an empty road. There’s a road sign a little further ahead but my eyes feel like they are going to burrow out of my skull at any moment. I’ll have to walk to a city nearby to find any water to help ease my self inflicted pain.
MONTERREY
1.3 MILES
Monterrey... Mexico?
I live in Michigan.
How much did I drink?
I guess I’ll have to break down everything I can remember up until I black out.
#tobecontinued, #scifi,
Day 100
I don't remember drinking last night. I couldn't have because I've been sober for 100 days exactly. I had just spent the first half my day at a meeting and then the remainder of the day on my deck with a case of non alcoholic beer. My memory goes all the way back to until I went to the convenience store around the corner, which was almost too convenient as the sign said 48 hours open instead of the usual 24.
I had just moved into my current neighborhood around the corner from the convenience store a week before, on my 93rd day. It was supposed to be a fresh start. But somehow I had destroyed that.
I have all the familiar signs of binge drinking from the night before. The headache, body aches, fuzziness, and regret and hatred for my own existence. All that surrounds me in my state of failure is sand and an empty road. There's a road sign a little further ahead but my eyes feel like they are going to burrow out of my skull at any moment. I'll have to walk to a city nearby to find any water to help ease my self inflicted pain.
MONTERREY
1.3 MILES
Monterrey... Mexico?
I live in Michigan.
How much did I drink?
I guess I'll have to break down everything I can remember up until I black out.
***
to be continued
Your fingers between mine, making sure they have something to land on. Something to catch me. My hand, held still so I don’t have to be afraid. Don’t have to hide anymore. My body close to yours, so that I have something to comfort me. For the days I cannot be myself. Without your fingers in mine, I would lose it all.