I kissed her with all the emotion and love that I felt in my heart. I needed to be inside her, remind her of my love. I made love to Sophia, face to face. I looked into her big brown eyes and never looked away. I needed the connection with her. She’s mine and I’m hers.
We spent most of Saturday inside holding each other and made love once.
“Please promise me you won’t drink like that again, Kayden?” She asked in a pleading voice.
“I’m sorry,” I responded. I didn’t know if I could hold true to a promise like that, all I could do was apologize.
“You scared me… I’ve missed you the past week. I don’t think I could do that again,” she said sternly.
“I used to have a drinking problem and sought help after my arrest,” I stated.
“I had no idea,” she said sadly.
“That’s because I never mentioned it. I don’t usually say, “Hey, I’m Kayden, and I’m an alcoholic.” I had it under control. I don’t usually drink so much... I’m just so depressed about not working. My life is falling apart,” I replied with sorrow in my voice. Sophia was my one bright spot, but I couldn’t focus on her, the darkness outweighing the light.
“Please try not to drink… for me. Be constructive. You’ve spent days drunk and passed out. You should have been using that time to fight. Promise me, Kayden. Your life isn’t falling apart. I’m still here. Don’t forget about me,” she said harshly.
I wouldn’t say that he currently had anything under control. Control is a word that addicts use when they still abuse their drug of choice. The addiction usually controlled the person, not the other way around. I would say the last week of his addiction, namely vodka, had controlled him.
“I’m sorry, and I promise to do better. I never want to upset you,” he said, staring into my eyes before kissing me on the cheek.
I understood that he felt sad and that he loved his job, but instead of drinking himself into oblivion, he should’ve been making phone calls and figuring out his next step. If there was no hope, like he assumed, then he needed to decide what to do next. Please let it involve me.
Exhaustion painted his face. The weight of the world was on his shoulders, but I wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone. I would be there for him and help him in any way I could. The weekend passed quickly and I needed to go home to return to work.
I had been so scared and helpless while I was away from him. If he was drunk and passed out, he would not be able to make decisions about his future or look for alternate employment. I wanted him in my life, but I did not sign up for a relationship with vodka. I would not give up on him. He needed to understand the depths of my sadness and worry.
He squeezed me tight and I got out of bed to pack my suitcase. My heart told me everything would be alright, but my mind knew better. I knew that this wasn’t the end of his struggle with alcohol. I knew a decision would have to be made. Do I stay and be his rock or do I run and cause him to spiral even further?
At the airport we kissed goodbye, tears streamed down my face and I could barely breathe. I felt like my world was ending as I hugged him, unable to let go. I inhaled him. He smelled like the man that I had always smelled before, instead of the stale vodka scent that lingered on his skin yesterday.
I cried walking through security. I’d miss him, more importantly I was scared—scared that the drinking would cause our relationship to fall apart.
Secrets
I hadn’t been entirely truthful with Sophia in the beginning, I had a drinking problem. Up until about two years ago, my life had been filled with addiction and excess to alcohol or drugs. The aftermath with Lisa caused me to gain control, though. Not out of want, but out of necessity. Sophia only knew a small snippet of my past. My life had spiraled out of control for many years, but one positive thing that occurred because of my arrest was that I gained control of my drinking, until now.
I had nowhere else to turn after my arrest. I couldn’t go home to my parents, and I had no means to support myself, losing my job because I didn’t show up the next day. I went to a homeless shelter at the Salvation Army, living in their communal housing where I was required to attend alcoholism counseling and work in their store. I had to take a real look at my life and what actions caused me to end up at their facility. The alcohol had caused so many problems throughout my life, it is my kryptonite. I had to stop it from ruling my life, and had been successful until now.
I would eventually share all of the gory details with her. I had to… I needed to. I had to wait for a time when I had control over my life. Sophia is the only beacon of hope in my life. I would try to stay sober for her—try to be the better man she deserved.
I felt my world falling apart as she walked through security at the airport. I felt hopeless, but I reassured her that everything would be okay. I didn’t believe any of it, it’s all horseshit. What am I without a job? Who am I? I had lost my center and my reason for being, besides Sophia. I loved my work, and it helped keep my mind occupied when we aren’t together.
What would I do without her here? The bottle would be my only friend nearby. I needed her with me, my moral compass. She deserved so much better than me, but I couldn’t give her up. Ever.
I walked out of the airport and through the parking garage until I found my truck. Climbing inside, I closed the door, and I could still smell her perfume in the air. She’s gone and I’m alone, again. I needed a fucking drink.
I’m a complete and utter fucking mess.
Broken Promises
He said there were things I didn’t know about him; I never thought alcoholism would be one. The signs were there, he always had a drink in his hands, never a day totally alcohol free when we were together. I always ended up drunk or buzzed, while he remained unfazed.
I loved Kayden, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit my emotions were mixed with the knowledge of his alcohol abuse. How could I walk away from him? I could not even go a night without talking with him, when he was clean and working I adored the man. How didn’t I know this about him?
Could I deal with a man that had a drinking problem? Someone that went to the bottle and buried their head instead of fighting for what they wanted? I didn’t want that life for myself. My mom had three traits she warned me against constantly: Don’t marry a drug addict, a cheater, or a drinker. While I didn’t always want to listen to my mom, and often rebelled against her advice, in the end, she was usually right.
He promised me that he would try not to drink so much, but who was I fucking kidding? An addict can’t just stop with a mere promise. His drinking started again, possibly before the wheels of my plane touched the tarmac. He had no chance of staying sober with drinking the norm amongst the guys. I saw the bottles lined up on the counter; tequila, vodka, rum, and whiskey, they were the only form of decoration. The temptation too great for him to deny… I had a choice to make.
The Kayden I knew and loved disappeared. In his place, a man filled with despair, often missing from my day. Time ticked away, as I filled my days as I had before, immersing myself in books and my work. Each day I prayed for normalcy. It had been established the day he entered my world, invaded it more accurately, and now there was hole where he used to be.