Leave Yourself Behind

"Ridley you need to stop this!" my boyfriend of a year exclaimed as he walked into my apartment and started picking up bottles of various alcoholics.

I got up clumsily from the couch and with bleary eyes, looked at my boyfriend. Rolling my eyes, I slumped back into my couch and tipped the bottle of Jack into my lips. "Go away Jonathan," I said grumpily.

I heard his footsteps walk closer to me until I could see his shoes in front of me. "You seriously need to stop this. This is getting too much, Lee."

Rubbing my head, I looked up at him and saw him wince. It was obvious that my makeup was running and my eyes were bloodshot, just from the look he was giving me. I didn't know how it got this far, but I was beyond saving.

It started with small bottles whenever I was feeling down or depressed. Then my mother died and I started spending more time with my four loves: Miller, Jim, Jack and Jose over my own boyfriend. I was surprised that Jon eve stayed with me this long or even put up with me.

Jonathan leaned over and put his hands on each side of me. "You need to stop. I don't know how long I can put up with this."

For some reason anger surged through me and I slapped his arm away so that I could get up. "Then fucking leave, nobody asked for you to stay. I don't fucking need you!" I yelled at him. "Get out of here!"

Jonathan started to back away from me, an annoyed look etched into is handsome face. He had his hands up as if to say that he was done with me. Done with my constant drunkenness, with my inability to stay sober and clean, done with us.

"Fine, if you want me gone then I'm gone. I've done everything I can and you just won't stop!" he said and made his way to out the door.

"Good! I never fucking needed you! I hate you!" I screamed furiously and threw the bottle of Jack in my hand, only missing his head by a couple of inches.

He looked at me surprised, like he couldn't believe I had just thrown a glass bottle at him. I was so far gone, I didn't even register that I threw it at him. I was pissed. Pissed at him, pissed at the world and pissed at myself.

"You're unbelievable," he said, shaking his head and slammed the door.

I winced at the sound of the door slamming. I stood there in shock, unable to believe that he actually left me. I'd been pushing him so hard, trying to see where his breaking point was, I just couldn't believe that I met it.

With a small whimper, I fell to the floor and started crying. I needed him. Jonathan was my support system, he was my rock. He was the only one that stayed when all of my friends abandoned me when they couldn't take my destructive behaviour and now he was gone.

The room was quiet, except for the person on the podium speaking. Everyone in the room all listened and watched the woman intently. They all connected with her, felt her experiences in one way or another. They were her.

I listened intently as she talked about how much alcohol ruined her marriage and how her husband left her because he couldn't handle it anymore. She started to get violent.

It sounded so familiar to me.

Toying with the gold coloured coin between my fingers, it reflected a bright light whenever the light would hit the coin. I shoved it back into my pocket and got up once the woman stopped talking.

It was eerily quiet as the group all watched me make my way up to the podium. I cleared my throat, suddenly the pressure it me. The glare of the spotlight made me sweat; the faces all became a blur. I forgot everything I was supposed to say.

There was a small cough amongst the small crowd that made me come back to earth. I cleared my throat again.

"My name's Ridley Muller. I'm twenty two," I introduced myself and waited for the crowds to respond. Sure enough they all said 'Hi, Ridley'. "I've been sober for six months now," I told them and they clapped. "I guess the drinking problem really started when my mom died."

I walked around aimlessly after hearing the news that Mom finally died of cancer. She had been diagnosed with leukemia three years ago and had been suffering since. I guess I was supposed to be glad that she wasn't suffering anymore, but I wasn't.

She was my best friend and my confidant. She was my world. After Dad had walked out on us, when I was six, and took half our money to be with his new girlfriend, all we had was each other. Mom put on a brave face and continued to raise me as best as she could. Even if it meant working two jobs and taking on more hours than her body could handle.

"Ridley, where are you?" asked Jonathan the moment I answered my cell phone with a strained 'hello'.

I looked around the dark street trying to figure out where I was. I guess I had been walking for longer than I thought because I didn't know where I was. "To be honest, I don't know and I don't really care," I said and continued walking onwards.

The shock was still in place. I was still in denial about my mother's death. I guess that was why I wasn't crying or hysterical. That must have been the reason.

"Stay where you are, I'll come and find you," he told me in a worried tone. "I love you Lee," he told me.

I just nodded mindlessly as I stared at the neon sign that indicated I was at a bar. "Yeah, I'll see you later," I said in a distracted manner and hung up before he could say anything.

Entering the bar, I realized that it was packed. People were already drunk and some where even starting minor fights. Ignoring all the ruckus, I made my way straight for the bar, like a person on a mission. I guess I was on a mission. I mission to forget.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked me.

"A beer, any beer," I mumbled and soon a bottle was in front of me. I had intended to get drunk just this one time. But then that one time became a second time, then a third, then a fourth, then a fifth, until finally I was getting drunk almost everyday.

"Before I became an alcoholic, I had a great life as cliché as it sounds. I had a boyfriend that never gave up on me and an amazing job. My biggest regret was losing my boyfriend. I kept on pushing and pushing. I kept on testing him, but he never gave up on me, until I told him to leave me alone for good. I lost my job, I lost my friends and most importantly, I lost the one person that never gave up on me"

I paused and watched as some of the people's faces look at me sadly. Some of them looked at me as if they knew what I was going through. Of course they knew, this was a place full of alcoholics and addicts that had fucked up their life so badly.

"Fuck," I whispered as I dropped my keys. I was so smashed that when I went to pick up my keys I just slumped my body beside the car and just sat there. I gave out a heavy sigh slammed my head on the car out of frustration. "Fuck this!"

"Ridley?"

I looked up, my eyes bleary and most likely bloodshot. I couldn't see clearly from the fact that I was drunk and the dark wouldn't help my vision any better, but I knew that voice. I could never forget that voice.

"Jonathan! What are you doing here?" I asked my voice excited as I flung my arms around.

"Are you drunk?" he asked me frustration evident in his voice.

I narrowed my eyes and made my pointing finger and thumb parallel to each other. "Only a teensy bit."

He sighed in frustration and dropped his hockey bag. "You're drunk again and you were supposed to at my game." Jonathan grabbed my right arm and helped me up.

"Oh don't be such a pussy. You're acting like a girl," I teased him and swung my left arm, holding onto his neck. "You stink. Are you sure you took a shower?"

Jonathan just sighed again and ignored my comments. "Come one. I'll take you home."

I planted my foot into the ground not budging. "No wait, my car and I need to get my keys," I said and let got of his neck. I stumbled to my car about to pick up my keys when I felt his arms around my waist.

"Just get in the car and I'll get them for you. We can pick up your keys later."

"My name is Ridley Muller, I'm an alcoholic and I've been sober for six months and seventeen days. Thank you."

*

Sighing, I grabbed my jacket that hanged on my chair, draped it over my arm and began to gather my things. Just as I was about to leave the room, I turned around when I heard my name being called.

"Ms. Muller."

"Dr. Monroe, what can I do for you?" I asked the nice aging man that had been helping my recover for the last six months.

He was our AA counsellor for our group of twenty-eight people.

"I just wanted to say congratulations and that I'm very proud of you," he said with a smile and hugged me.

I smiled sadly. Dr. Monroe had been such a huge help throughout my recovery, because of my constant drinking, I had lost every single friend that I ever had. Dr. Monroe was the one person that I constantly ran to whenever I felt the urge to drink.

He had taken a special interest in me from the moment I stepped into the room six months ago. I supposed it was because I reminded him so much of his daughter. The daughter he lost to alcoholism and died two years ago. In so many ways, Dr. Monroe replaced the father I had lost all those years ago.

"Thank you," I responded weakly. It didn't feel like an accomplishment, because at the end of the day, I was in a job I hated, living in a shitty rundown apartment and no one to come home to. No Jonathan to be waiting for me. "Does it get better from here?" I asked on the verge of tears.

He smiled sadly at me and rubbed my arm comfortingly. "To be honest, I don't know. But it's worth a try. Trust me, it's worth a try."

I nodded, my lips trembling, my eyes ready to produce tears. "Okay."

"Call me if you ever need a friend and someone to talk to."

I just nodded again and walked out of the room. Gathering up my long brown hair, I placed it in one side of my face as I bit my lip, trying to figure out what my next move was. As I walked down the hallway that led me outside to the real world, I didn't realize how long it was.

I had walked down these hallways for the past six months every Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but I didn't realize how long of a walk it was. It seemed like it could stretch for miles and as I continued to walk, I was one step closer to reality.

It was like, whenever I was in the AA meetings, I felt like I was safe. Safe from being hurt, safe from being judged and safe from being disappointed. Now that it was over, it started to become scared, I was out on my own again.

Looking around, I realized that I was the first to leave and that everyone else was till in the meeting room talking and swapping stories. I was always the first to leave, I didn't talk to anyone in there, I just went to the meetings, spoke about my problems and when everything was done, leave.

My pace slowed my eye brows furrowed as I saw a person at the end of the hallway. My eyes widened when I realized who it was. I couldn't believe it, there was no way he could have been here. How did he even know where my meetings were?

As I walked, he became clearer to me. He was in a suit; he must have come from his game, and had a bouquet of flowers in one hand. Jon smiled at me as I approached him.

"I got a call from a Dr. Monroe, a couple of months ago telling me about you," he said as I walked closer to him. "I've been asking about you for the last six months and he's been keeping my updated."

That was it. The moment he said that I was gone. I started to sob.

I put a hand over my mouth to muffle it as I walked close to him. God this hallway could go on forever and I still would never reach him. "I-I thought you gave up on me," I whimpered.

"God Lee, I could never give up on you," he said. He gathered me into his arms the moment the hallway ended. "I love you," he whispered.

I broke the hug and looked at him. I smiled when I saw love in them. At that moment, I knew that things were going to get better. "Hi, I'm Ridley Muller," I said and stuck out my hand.

He laughed and smiled. "Hi Ridley, I'm Jonathan Toews."