This was a request for someone, but I lost track if the name. I've been scattered all over the place lately. Having difficulty writing about Robert.
Was an argument with almost led to a rebound til he intervened.
You were distraught. You had promised to do better. You had promised to cut back on the drinking and pay more attention to your daughter. You had promised to be more involved and to not isolate yourself. It was happening again. Right when things felt like they were getting better, everything began to fall apart. The best part was that there was no reason for it. You were fine! You were with Robert! Your daughter was in college! What could you possibly be so messed up about that would cause you to fall back into your old routine of avoiding everyone and drinking yourself to death?
“What is this!?” He nearly yelled. He was upset with you. He had every right to be. You had made a promise and then let him down. You wished you could say something. Something coherent like, sorry or don’t be mad, but you could barely get a word out without it sounding garbled and slurred.
“How much did you drink? How much!?” He sounded concerned, but you could hear more of that disappointment in his voice. This wasn’t the first time you had been this drunk. He didn’t mind then, because we were happy and having fun. Here? No. This wasn’t dun. This wasn’t happy. This was misery. It was sad. You probably looked so pathetic.
“God damn It. How could you do this to yourself? You said you would talk to me! You made me promise you that I would talk to you if I needed to, but you won’t speak to me?”
Tears fell down your cheeks at his words. Talk! Say something!
You whispered “sorry” as best you could, but it wasn’t enough.
“Fuck this shit. You said we would get better together. I don’t fucking need this right now.” He grabbed his house keys and headed towards the front door.
You choked on your tears, trying to reach out to him through the double vision, a desperate whine escaping your clenched teeth.
“ Rob!!! Rober...”He didn’t even turn around. He just left, slamming the door.
You didn’t leave your house for several days, unless it was to pick up food or alcohol. You looked like death. You felt like death, but you couldn’t find the strength to stop. Your daughter stopped texting you. You sent her one too many texts while under the influence and it was enough to make her block your number. You wanted to apologize to her, but was scared. Scared to apologize. Scared to do anything but hide.
You heard the door creak open while you were in the kitchen, fallen on the floor and unable to walk. You wanted to grab your baseball bat to protect yourself if needed. At the same time, however, you were just ready to be taken out. You thought that maybe it was better this way. To your surprise, it was just Robert, quietly trekking his way into the kitchen to see you in your miserable glory.
“Are you ok?” He knelt down beside you, taking your face between his scarred, rough hands. You didn’t say anything, just waited for him to leave again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t help you. Shit. I’m not good at this stuff.” He rubbed his neck. “I was angry and didn’t want to see you like this.” He pulled you into his warm embrace. “I said some awful shit. I didn’t mean it. Just don’t give up on me, babe.”
You began to sob into his shoulder as he comforted you. He was right. You shouldn’t just give up. You needed to give it another go, with him there, things would be ok.
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