Sunday, May 18, 2014

Fiction Thursday (the late edition): That's good. That's ok.

12, 13, 14, 15. 16. I have 16 left. That's one more than half. I have one more, and then I've only taken half since Wednesday. That's good. That's ok. I'll have this last one and then I'll save the rest. I don't need to take them all the time. They don't work as well when I take them so much. Remember when I stopped for 2 months and then took one? That day we cleared out the tree stumps from the backyard and I really needed one because I strained my back. Jen drove out to Mike's and picked up subs for everyone. We ate outside in the evening while the neighborhood kids played soccer. It felt spectacular. So happy. Like another world. Jen was so beautiful. She still is. I hope she's not mad at me anymore. I can't believe I fell asleep through her speech. I took too many that day. Just wanted to be lively to all those people. Just wanted to have a good time. To not worry so much about how my pants didn't fit right. They didn't fit because I bought the cheap ones. I don't like tailors. I don't like people touching me. Touching me and judging me because pants don't fit me right off the rack. Everything fits Jen right off the rack. She's spectacular. I don't know why she ever wanted me. I hope she's not mad at me anymore. I need to call her. Fuck, I keep forgetting to call her. Work is hard and these make me sleepy and I go to bed too early. It's always something. Something in the way. I'll call her tonight when I get home. Only two more stops, then home. Yes. I'll call her and then I'll fix my tea like always and I'll take this last one. I won't even snort it. I'll just swallow it. Or I could take it now and call her in a few hours when it's started to wear off. No that won't work. She always knows. I'll call her, and I'll take it after so it's like a reward. Why do I have to be rewarded to call my wife. That's sick. You're a sick asshole who needs his pants tailored. But I'm trying. I'm trying to be better. I'm saving half of these. I won't take this half unless I absolutely need them. Only when my neck is bothering me. That's good. That's ok. That fucking accident. I shouldn't have been driving. I knew that. I know that. I crashed and wrenched my neck and now this. Of course I'm not drinking as much now. I don't need to. I have these. Fuck. That's the whole problem. These. Just like everyone says. From one crutch to another. I don't even want them. But I have them. They're here. I like that I have them. I like that have half left. I can do this. I can prove it to Jen that I'm not an addict. I'm not an addict. That's good. That's ok. Addicts take more than I do. Addicts don't go to work everyday like I do. Ok, I've called out a few times. But my job isn't in danger. And Jen left. But wives leave their husbands everyday. I was a drunk. I deserved her leaving me for how much I drank. She didn't leave me over these. She left me because I drank. These are ok. I need these. I have a medical need for these. The doctor says I need these. I have one plus half of these left over. How many did I take on Tuesday? 3. Wednesday, 3. Monday? 5. Monday was a bad day. Everyone has bad days. It's ok. That's why I'm stopping. I already have half left. I'm good. I'm ok. Jen will see. I'll call her tonight and tell her. Tell her that I'm stopping. I miss her. She'll come back when she sees how good I am. I'll only take this one tonight. And then I'll have half left over. And that's good. That's ok.

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