We Signed Our Life Away

One;

One week in and so far so good, for Oli. Mind you, I’ve stopped him from going to any parties this week. Next week will be the real test for him. After all, he can’t stay away from parties forever. I could tell that he wanted to drink. Badly. But obviously I mean something to him, which makes me smile. Only a little though.

Apparently Tom caught him opening a can of beer but he managed to stop him, thank God. I know he’s gonna crack soon, I can feel it but I still hope he won’t. I might just break don knowing that alcohol means more to him than I do.

Curtis has been proper brilliant though, even stopping drinking beer for a while too. I don’t think Oli notices though seeing as his head is stuck a bit too far up his own arse at the moment. Not that I mind. If he needs to be conceited and a right prat, I’ll let him. But only for the time being.

Two;

I’m worried. No, fuck that. I’m scared shitless. Oli doesn’t like not drinking, not at all. He gets angry. He doesn’t take it out on me, no way, but I can see t in his eyes. Sometimes I wonder if I should give up, let him drink til he’s dead but then I contradict myself: ‘He can do it, Parker.’ I hate lying to myself.

I know he’ll get better; going cold turkey will always be hard. Especially in the first few weeks. I’ve been talking to Curtis a lot more lately; he agrees that Oli is ‘deteriorating’, going downhill. Maybe I’m fucking him up, not fixing him.

Three;

He’s better now. Only a little though, I can still see it in his eyes. He’s an accomplished liar ad I know that whenever he says he’s okay, he isn’t but I trust him. Something inside of me tells me to trust him.

I’ve managed to keep him away from alcohol these past few weeks but I know I can’t do it forever. That’s why we’re going to one next week. Maybe staying sober at it might… open his eyes to how everyone really acts when they’re drunk. I’m no sure it’ll work though.

Contradicting myself. It’s new fashion and I’ve caught in hard. I trust Oli, but I don’t. I want him to get better, but I know he won’t. Why? Why do I do these things? I can’t change people. I’m just a girl.

That party, I must admit, has been brilliant. Oli seems to be high on fruit juice, only slightly worrying. Tom’s so pissed he can’t even stand up so he passed out on the lounge room floor a few minutes ago. No one’s really noticed.

Oli actually seems to be enjoying himself, laughing at his drunken friends. He says he can’t believe he used to be like that. He says it’s embarrassing to him that he acted like that in front of me. God I love this boy.

Curtis decided to have a few drinks; Oli was shooting daggers at him but no one really cares. I do though.

***

I don’t know how he does it. He brings himself so high, high enough that people begin to trust him again, and then he comes crashing down like the twin towers. No one matters any more, nothing matters any more except that drink in his hand and that girl, obviously piss drunk, sitting by the table.

Watching him made it worse yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. I needed to watch this. To assure myself that I really couldn’t trust him. Curtis watched too, his face one of pure shock. And to think we thought we could change him.

“Stop it,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “Please.”

I watched as he helped her up, drink is hand. She smiled goofily and batted her thick, fake eyelashes at him. He grinned, swept his dark hair out of his eyes and pulled her across the lawn.

It had struck Curtis what he was about to do. “Fuck.”

Hatred burnt through my veins yet I did nothing. We just watched as my now ex-boyfriend swaggered into the house, some whore latched onto his tattooed arm. I felt tears behind my eyes but I fought them back; I had to be strong. And you know what? I was.

"Guess what," I grinned.

"What?" Curtis asked, surprised by the sound of my cheerful voice.

"I'm going to eradicate him like a fucking disease."

"How, Parker? You don't look like a murderer," he teased.

"I'll asphyxiate his arse. And have fun at the same time. Multi-tasking: it's what us girls do best, right?"

And at that, we both began laughing. A genuine laugh that gradually grew louder and shriller as we both fell to our knees, hands over our mouths, stomachs hurting.

“Hang on,” Curtis laughed, clutching his stomach, “What about Mandy?”

“Mandy?”

“The girl he was hauling off to fuck,” he stated casually.

“Psh, her. Don’t worry. I’ll... chop off her hair. Badly or something. I dunno. She’ll learn. We’ll think of something, yeah?” I grinned.

“I’m scared now,” Curtis said, his face contorting into one of mock horror.

“Boo!” I shrieked jumping onto him and collapsing on his chest.

“Oh hi Parker,” he chuckled, his face inches from mine.

“Sup,” I grinned before jumping off his chest and standing upright.

“You seem t be taking this situation… very well,” Curtis noted, taking a swig of his beer.

“Indeed I am. I knew it would happen; it was all really just a waiting game. I must admit, although my time with Oli was short, it was fun. He’s a nice guy; he just has a few flaws that stop him from being brilliant. And if he isn’t willing to fix them, his problem. One thing though: I can’t wait to see him in fifty years. D’ you reckon he’ll be some old slag leaching off fifteen –year-olds?”

“I reckon he’ll be some old slag leaching off ‘a twelve-year-olds, love. This is Oli we’re not talking, he has no limits,” Curtis answered.

“True. To be honest, this party sucks. I’m going home, coming?”

“You don’t mind? I really can’t be fucked walking home. Too far,” Curtis moaned, pretending to stumble.

“It’s fine. It’s not like your going to rape me or anything. Hang on… are you?” I asked, eyeing him in mock suspicion.

“Damn.”

“Ah well. C’mon you fag. Lets get home, my bed seems pretty comfortable right now.”

As I walked back over the road to my house, Curtis following, I was surprised at how calm I was acting, despite the situation at hand. Mind you, I had always known Oli would be unfaithful, it was just a matter of time and I was very pleased with myself that I could make a joke out of it.

Curtis and I managed to get up to my room very quietly, hiding our giggles behind our hands. I chucked my millions of blankets on the floor for Curtis to crash while I collapsed on my bed.

“Tomorrow’s another day, Curtis. An Oli free day. Woo-hoo,” I said, flailing my tired arms in the air before falling asleep instantly.