Status: Ongoing
Ain't Love Grand?
Abandon
The problems started when he began to become distant. He wasn't so distant that he'd shut me out completely, or pretend that I didn't exist, but he was distant in the way he'd started spending more time with his friends on the nights he'd normally be home with me. Life had become one big party now that his band was internationally known, and record sales and tours made it so he had more money in his bank account than he'd ever known before. He didn't know what to do with it all, so he did what most young men with money to burn would do. He hit the clubs and drank it all away. I was getting pretty tired of sitting up and waiting for him to return at odd hours of the night, but I loved him too much to confront him about it, just in case it started an unwanted fight.
I didn't worry about him so much at first. Every young man liked to go out and get wasted when they could, and when you didn't have to be up at the crack of dawn to go work an office job, it was kind of acceptable to go out drinking through the week. But soon it became every other night, and I would be left at home on my own, watching the clock and wondering what time he'd be home and what state he'd be in. Sometimes I'd just go to bed alone, knowing he was staying out on some crazy bender.
Turning over onto my back, I let out a sigh, staring up at the dark ceiling. This was getting out of control, and he didn't see it. He didn't see the damage he was doing to himself, and us. I didn't mind him going out and having fun with his friends; he deserved it after how hard he worked with the band, but there was a difference between having fun and getting completely wrecked on an almost nightly basis.
I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. It must have been nearing 3AM, because it had gone 2 the last time I'd looked at the time. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. I was irritated and upset. I couldn't even remember the last time we'd spent a quiet night alone. I sat up, inhaling deeply and letting it out slowly, leaning against the headboard. 3AM and still no sign of him. This was ridiculous.
I stood up, starting to pace around the bedroom slowly, glancing at my cell phone on the nightstand. I was hoping for any sign of a phone call or a text, letting me know that he was alright. Before I had a chance to make a move to contact HIM, I heard the front door open and then close... or slam. He wasn't very quiet with his entrance. I contemplated going downstairs to confront him, but decided to wait and perched on the foot of the bed, chewing on my fingernails as I waited for him.
I didn't have to wait long. As usual, his plan was to probably fumble his way up the stairs and just collapse in to bed.
I watched him for a moment, before closing my eyes, trying not to let my frustration get the best of me. "Where have you been?"
He flopped lazily on to his side, not even bothering to take off his shoes. "Out," he said, stating the obvious. "You...should be sleeping. It's late."
Biting down on my lip, I inhaled deeply, and opened my eyes, looking down at my lap. "I was waiting for you to come home.. I was beginning to get worried." I looked up at him. "Alex, this has to stop..."
"Nothing to worry about," he said, pulling the sheet up over him after finally kicking off his shoes and letting them drop to the floor. "Not doing anything wrong. Just a few drinks with the boys."
I grabbed the blanket, and tugged it down so I could see his face, looking at him. "It's not 'just a few drinks with the boys', Alex, it's every night just about!" I shook my head, frowning. "It's getting out of control."
He groaned and threw his arms over his head, shielding himself from my glare. "What's the big deal? I'm fine. I came home." He shifted a little, trying to get comfortable on the mattress. "Always come home."
"What's the big deal?!" I asked, blinking, and I stood up, shaking my head again. "Alex, look at yourself! You go and get completely TRASHED almost every day! I can never talk to you without you slurring your words, it's getting old, and it needs to STOP."
He uncovered his head and looked at me, his brow creased into a frown. "What? So I can't go out and have fun anymore?" His head shook. "I'm entitled to a little down time, Leese. I'm allowed to go out and ENJOY myself."
"I didn't say you couldn't go out and have fun." I sighed, rubbing my eyes hard. "But this constant drinking binge is damaging you! It's all you do anymore, is go out and drink with the guys. You never want to just sit here with me for a night!"
"Oh, so now you're jealous that I have friends?" He rolled his eyes and reached over, shutting off the lamp on the bedside table. "Goodnight, Leese. I'm not in the mood for this right now."
I fought the urge to cry. I wasn't angry, or sad. I was annoyed, more so at the fact that he couldn't see what he was doing to himself and our relationship than he not spending time with me every single night. "You just don't get it, do you? You don't get that you are turning into an alcoholic."
He laughed into the darkness as if the idea of it was completely absurd. "Alcoholics wake up in the morning and drink a beer instead of coffee," he stated, and while he hadn't gotten to that point - at least not yet - he was still drinking way too much. "I just enjoy a good night out, alright? It's not like I'm abandoning you. I still come home to you."
I shook my head, and rose my eyes to the ceiling, blinking back tears. "That. is. not. the. point. Just.. forget it, Alex. Just fucking forget it. You're too drunk to even completely understand what I am talking about." I laid down on my side of the bed, curling up under the blankets, and sniffed softly. He just did not understand. He was wrong. He WAS abandoning me.
I didn't worry about him so much at first. Every young man liked to go out and get wasted when they could, and when you didn't have to be up at the crack of dawn to go work an office job, it was kind of acceptable to go out drinking through the week. But soon it became every other night, and I would be left at home on my own, watching the clock and wondering what time he'd be home and what state he'd be in. Sometimes I'd just go to bed alone, knowing he was staying out on some crazy bender.
Turning over onto my back, I let out a sigh, staring up at the dark ceiling. This was getting out of control, and he didn't see it. He didn't see the damage he was doing to himself, and us. I didn't mind him going out and having fun with his friends; he deserved it after how hard he worked with the band, but there was a difference between having fun and getting completely wrecked on an almost nightly basis.
I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. It must have been nearing 3AM, because it had gone 2 the last time I'd looked at the time. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. I was irritated and upset. I couldn't even remember the last time we'd spent a quiet night alone. I sat up, inhaling deeply and letting it out slowly, leaning against the headboard. 3AM and still no sign of him. This was ridiculous.
I stood up, starting to pace around the bedroom slowly, glancing at my cell phone on the nightstand. I was hoping for any sign of a phone call or a text, letting me know that he was alright. Before I had a chance to make a move to contact HIM, I heard the front door open and then close... or slam. He wasn't very quiet with his entrance. I contemplated going downstairs to confront him, but decided to wait and perched on the foot of the bed, chewing on my fingernails as I waited for him.
I didn't have to wait long. As usual, his plan was to probably fumble his way up the stairs and just collapse in to bed.
I watched him for a moment, before closing my eyes, trying not to let my frustration get the best of me. "Where have you been?"
He flopped lazily on to his side, not even bothering to take off his shoes. "Out," he said, stating the obvious. "You...should be sleeping. It's late."
Biting down on my lip, I inhaled deeply, and opened my eyes, looking down at my lap. "I was waiting for you to come home.. I was beginning to get worried." I looked up at him. "Alex, this has to stop..."
"Nothing to worry about," he said, pulling the sheet up over him after finally kicking off his shoes and letting them drop to the floor. "Not doing anything wrong. Just a few drinks with the boys."
I grabbed the blanket, and tugged it down so I could see his face, looking at him. "It's not 'just a few drinks with the boys', Alex, it's every night just about!" I shook my head, frowning. "It's getting out of control."
He groaned and threw his arms over his head, shielding himself from my glare. "What's the big deal? I'm fine. I came home." He shifted a little, trying to get comfortable on the mattress. "Always come home."
"What's the big deal?!" I asked, blinking, and I stood up, shaking my head again. "Alex, look at yourself! You go and get completely TRASHED almost every day! I can never talk to you without you slurring your words, it's getting old, and it needs to STOP."
He uncovered his head and looked at me, his brow creased into a frown. "What? So I can't go out and have fun anymore?" His head shook. "I'm entitled to a little down time, Leese. I'm allowed to go out and ENJOY myself."
"I didn't say you couldn't go out and have fun." I sighed, rubbing my eyes hard. "But this constant drinking binge is damaging you! It's all you do anymore, is go out and drink with the guys. You never want to just sit here with me for a night!"
"Oh, so now you're jealous that I have friends?" He rolled his eyes and reached over, shutting off the lamp on the bedside table. "Goodnight, Leese. I'm not in the mood for this right now."
I fought the urge to cry. I wasn't angry, or sad. I was annoyed, more so at the fact that he couldn't see what he was doing to himself and our relationship than he not spending time with me every single night. "You just don't get it, do you? You don't get that you are turning into an alcoholic."
He laughed into the darkness as if the idea of it was completely absurd. "Alcoholics wake up in the morning and drink a beer instead of coffee," he stated, and while he hadn't gotten to that point - at least not yet - he was still drinking way too much. "I just enjoy a good night out, alright? It's not like I'm abandoning you. I still come home to you."
I shook my head, and rose my eyes to the ceiling, blinking back tears. "That. is. not. the. point. Just.. forget it, Alex. Just fucking forget it. You're too drunk to even completely understand what I am talking about." I laid down on my side of the bed, curling up under the blankets, and sniffed softly. He just did not understand. He was wrong. He WAS abandoning me.