It suddenly occured to me, what if what's his name (cuz i can't mention his name or even his nickname), didn't leave because his wife was too suspcicious. What if he left because I was a bad influence. He did start to drink and get fucked up more and more as we hung out.
Maybe that's just my ego trying to compensate. Probably.
He was all thrilled at first. He'd say to me, "I can't believe there's someone who likes getting fucked up as much as I do."
And that's what kinda makes me think. Those are some strong words. And If I had three kids I'd stop and think, hey, wait, what am I doing.
And I might not want to hurt the person's feelings by calling them an alcoholic. And since the other out was there, I might just use it instead. No hurt feelings. It was bound to happen. We were loving on borrowed time anyway.
He'd bring beer. We'd drink. We'd laugh. We'd have sex like mindless animals. It was all very good for me. What more could I want. But he already had more and didn't want to lose it.
And I'm glad he didn't.
But I never sought to take anything away from him in the first place. I only wanted to be close to him. Maybe that's all he wanted too.
I guess the only way anyone can ever be close to an alcoholic is to become one. Or almost. Only unlike me (see previous post), he was smart enough to stop himself before it was too late to go back.
Sunday
10/30/2005 11:15:00 PM
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