i remember the fire in her eyes; the way i didn’t want to be there, sand between my toes and innocence on my mind, i remember the way you handed me the bottle, i would of rather swallowed lake water i remember the way it burned down my throat, as if i was drinking the embers from the bonfire i remember the guilt burn deep within me, i remember the dress you wore, the turquoise color bright as the sun went down, the night was a blur, i remember the tears in my eyes, whenever i see you around these halls i get sick, i still feel the fire within my stomach, threatening to char me again, as if i still had to apologize, i still see the fire when i close my eyes.
I’m so sick of businesses like bars and pubs making jokes about day drinking. It’s all just a fun joke until you actually know someone who does that shit.
My ex regularly got drunk - every evening, and on the weekend he would start earlier, usually by 4pm. One time I met up him with his friends, all completely drunk, at 11am. And because he never wanted to stop once he started, he refused to stop drinking and sober up until he went to sleep, so he continued to drink until 11pm. So that was a fucking awful day for me. Not only did I have to watch over him like an inebriated child all day, but he regularly got angry when he was drunk, and I was always the one who got the consequence.
By the end of our relationship, every time he picked up a drink, I wondered whether it would be one of those days where some small thing would set him off and he would get angry and act like a passive aggressive teenager. It ruined so many nights out. I would feel betrayed time and time again when the person I loved most would fly into a rage and act like I had grievously offended him. I never felt I was good enough for him anyway but this sure as hell didn’t help my self esteem.
I was lucky to be able to get out of that relationship relatively easily - he recognised that he didn’t love me, and I had stopped loving him after all of that behaviour - but my one interaction with him since we broke up was, yet again, one where he got drunk and accused me of working against him.
Now that I’m not around him to take the fall, the idea of someone else receiving this abuse concerns me.
But it’s the idea of him being told it’s okay to drink even more often, and thus become abusive to those around him more often, that really horrifies me.