All The Small Things

Enough to attend an alcohol rehabilitation program GM?

Because thats the only thing that is going to change my mind and stop me from breaking up with you the next time I see you.

 

 

Friday night was an interesting one, and obviously quite a lot happened.

I'll skip to the important bit, so as to save us all some time.

Basically, we'd been at the pub. GM stayed longer and went harder than me, as usual. Longer and harder than everyone actually. As usual.

He stumbled home, and I do mean stumbled, around one am. I took him to bed, tucked him up. He told me he loved me, and we snuggled down to sleep.

Then at four am he woke up. And he pee-d on my floor.

And I woke up, because I heard him, and I asked him to stop. I told him to stop. I implored him to stop.

And he just looked at me, and kept peeing on my floor. It was like he couldn't see me, like he was looking right through me.

I jumped up and went to get some towels to clean up the mess - I got back to the bedroom and I handed him a towel and told him to help me clean up. And then he did look at me, and he saw me, but I don't think he recognised me, and it wasn't GM in there.  I don't know who it was, but it wasn't GM.

He threw the towel back at me.

Then he called me an f-ing, c-ing, s.l.u.t. and he got out his wallet, and he threw money at me and told me to f-off. Then he called me variations of the above while he pulled on his clothes, wet from his urine, and then he came towards me.

Me, who was standing there, holding the towels, asking him to stop - telling him this wasn't him, that he wasn't awake, asking him to stop.

Then he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me backwards until I hit the door. All the time, swearing and calling me an f-ing, c-ing, b.i.t.c.h, w.h.o.r.e, or s.l.u.t..

He headed for the front door. When he got there, he couldn't get it open, so I went to help him. I unlocked the door and he shoved me out of the way and I hit the wall.

He left, carrying his shoes, and I was just worried about him. How stupid is that. I was worried that he would get in his car and drive away and kill himself. But he didn't drive away, he went in the other direction, around the corner and presumably down the street.

So I txted his brother, and asked him to come help me. There was no reply. I thought I'd go for a quick walk and see if I could find GM. I rounded the corner, and there he was.

Asleep on the footpath.

With his shoes neatly sitting beside him.

 

So I sat with him, as he lay there snoring. And I sat there for two hours. And he didn't wake up. And I was afraid to try to wake him, in case he hit me, or hurt me.

So I just sat there. In the cold. Being bitten by mosquitos. For two hours. While he slept.

 

I don't know what I was thinking for those two hours. I guess part of me was just hoping that it was a dream and that I would wake up. Or that he would wake up and be my GM again.

But I didn't. And he didn't either. And after two hours of sitting in the cold, I decided that I would go home, to my nice comfortable bed, and he could just stay there, in the cold, and that was his problem.

So by this time it was about six thirty. I slid into bed, fully clothed, and tried to get to sleep. Not with any great measure of success mind you. Then at seven I heard someone climb my front steps and keys rustling.

I went to the door and saw GM opening the door of his car. I ran out the front, and he saw me. He lit the cigarette that he had retrieved from his car and shut the door.

He didn't say anything, he just walked up to where I was standing.

He looked at me. And he didn't say a thing.

And I asked him if he knew what he'd done the night before.

And he said that he didn't remember. So I told him. And he just looked at me.

And then he said "Sorry. Obviously I'm a dickhead. Sorry." And he didn't say it in an apologetic voice, it was a voice that said, you are making a big deal of this, and it means nothing.

And I told him that that wasn't good enough. I deserved a better apology than that.

Then our local policeman drove around the corner. GM said, well, Local Copper is driving me home. Bye.

And he walked over to the car, and he got in and they drove off, and he didn't even look at me.

 

And all this time, I never cried. And I was feeling like I was standing just two inches out of my skin, and this was all going to stop any minute.

 

I went back to bed, and slept until about twelve. I was sitting on the couch talking on the phone to my grandmother when his brother dropped him off to pick up his car. He got out of his brothers car and he looked up to my window, and we looked at one another.

Then he turned around and walked into my next door neighbours house, and he stayed there for over an hour.

I expected, I guess, that he would come and talk to me. Apologise. Something.

I tried to keep myself occupied, I got myself a drink, I went to the bathroom, I made my bed.

And somewhere in there, somewhere between an hour and a quarter and an hour and a half, he got into his car and he left.

Without seeing me.

Without apologising.

Without anything.

 

And then I cried.

I cried and I cried and I cried and I cursed my stupidity.

 

And then I got a bit angry. And the more I thought about it, the more angry I got. Because I deserve better than that. I deserve better than to be treated that way, and I deserve an apology.

And I will not stay with someone who treats me in that manner.

 

I have no doubt that it was the alcohol that brought this behaviour on. He wasn't himself, and sober, it would never have happened.

But unless he is prepared to make a commitment to be sober and to recieve treatment for his alcohol abuse, then I will not waste my time with him.

I deserve better, and I will not have that behaviour around Nicky.

 

Its been two days, and he hasn't been near me. I'm not sure what I'm angrier about now. That he treated me badly, or that he hasn't even apologised. That is weak. Sure, its not the easiest thing in the world to approach me after treating me like that - but I'll be damned if I'm going to call him.

Actions have consequences, and those consequences have to be faced up to. Thats life. Thats reality.