Tears and fears

Yesterday, B had planned to go straight from work to his cousin’s house, and spend the night there. His cousin lives right near our storage unit, so it made sense for him to be closeby so he could wake up this morning and easily get there.

Instead, he took a detour on the way to his cousin’s house and decided to “go out to dinner with his sister.” I immediately smelled trouble. “Going out to dinner” meant going to a bar with his sister, her alcoholic husband, and his asshole friend.

B does not do well in these kinds of situations, although he likes to think he does. At 145 pounds, he’s a bit of a lightweight, and especially with beer. For some reason, beer fucks him up. It also gives him incredible hangovers. And yet, he was chugging beer. This is what I call “competetive drinking.” It’s what boys do when they socialize, trying to keep up with each other and look manly. And so of course, B had too much to drink.

Now when B has too much to drink in a “competetive drinking atmosphere”, he turns into a major dick. He gets a whole shitload of liquid courage and turns from the passive nice guy that he is into the world’s biggest asshole. He pokes fun at everyone in sight and keeps prodding and needling until you just want to smack him upside the head. Apparently, one of the guys couldn’t take it anymore, and proceeded to bitch B out. The guy told him that he “was a dick to his friends and a dick to his family.” B flipped out, walked out the bar, throwing his beer glass down on the ground as he exited. And even though his sister had firmly told him that he WOULDN’T be driving, he drove. He drove drunk on New Year’s weekend. And while he drove, he called me. And while he drove and called me, he sobbed like a baby. Now this part is important. I have NEVER, EVER seen or heard B cry. Not even when his grandmother died, not even when our children were born. He claims that he hasn’t cried since he was 12 years old. I was pissed at him, pissed at his sister for not doing more to stop him from driving, and I was shocked at his tears. Over and over he was saying things like “I’m a dick and nobody likes me. You hate me, my family hates me, and I don’t like the person I am. I give up, I’m not doing it anymore, I just give up.” It was really, really distressing. I made him hang up the phone while I frantically called his cousin to explain the situation and to warn him that a very intoxicated B was on his way there.

His cousin is in AA and has been sober for several years. I knew this would make for a very interesting night.

I shook violently and my teeth chattered until I got the call that he had arrived safely and was sobering up. I spoke to him for a few minutes and assured him that he was a good person, that everyone liked him, but yes, he IS a dick when he drinks, and that perhaps it’s time to say goodbye to The Drink. Perhaps for me too.

I’ve never loved him more.

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3 Responses to “Tears and fears”


  1. 1 Jewel December 31, 2006 at 6:15 am

    omg. This is the sadest thing ever. I know that he has it in him to be the dad and husband and man that he wants to be. I want to cry. I wish that B could make the choice to straighten up. Well because then I would love him too. He needs you and the boys. You are his rock. You need him. He is your cloud. And your boys need the both of you together. You are the shining light together.

  2. 2 ladyareto December 31, 2006 at 7:10 pm

    alchohol sucks dudes.

  3. 3 thordora January 1, 2007 at 12:34 am

    You’re both lucky nothing happened, that he got there safe. Perhaps this is a good way to start fresh though.

    Be safe. happy New Year.


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