"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!"
Quatrain XII in the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyam
`phfina analysis:
Made myself spaghetti for supper tonight with a red sauce and ground beef. Went simple, so used the sauce from the jar. ... Don't tell my Nana, but ... well, she makes sauces like nobody's business, they tasted so good. This sauce was a little sweet and a little tasteless.
And it really needed a cup of wine to go with it, I mean, it really, really needed a cup of red wine.
And, you know, I've fallen twice already, so, I mean, why not give up and give in, since I've already screwed up twice already.
Just give up the game, and no, I don't have any red wine, but a quick exit from my apartment to the supermarket would remedy that in a jiffy (jiffy, n: 1/100th of second). And, why even bother? Cognac would be fine, too, right?
And I really, really miss bourbon in the nights, when I'm writing. And ...
... and on and on and on.
And well, day two, no drinking.
I hate this. I really enjoy drinking, and I really miss it. Why am I doing this? Why do I do anything?
I do worry over you. God! I worry SO! You see, I have seen up close what alcohol can do to people.
ReplyDeleteI have had friends, clever and bright ones, who just like you started off very innocently " a cup of wine to my dinner, a drink or two in the evening." And then they ended up trading EVERYTHING: family, work, friends and health for the buzz. A few of them I haven't heard from in years - I don't even know if they're still alive.
I remember one of them so very clearly. His name was Dan. He loved Kate Bush, saluki dogs, to sing little nonsens ditties from musicals and...drinking. He used to call me when being drunk and talk about how much he hated himself, his parents (who had past away a long time ago) and everybody else.
Sometimes he told me he even hated me too. And that hurt a bit.
After a few days he'd call back and act as if everything was normal, and I so called him on that; asking him what he meant by saying he hated me and then act as if everything was okay. He didn't understand what I was talking about. He didn't even remember talking to me...
Then one day he told me he got accepted at the Univerity of Stockholm at the psychologist´s programme (5 years and damn hard to get in to) and he was happy and I was happy for him.
After a few months I talked to him again, wondering how school was going. And I get so sad every time I think of his answer:
"I didn't want to go, I wanted to drink instead."
That was the last I heard from him.
My own brother was one of those. Those who gave up (almost) everything. He's still with us, thank God. But it was a close call.
And there is nothing that I can say or do to make you realize what it is you're doing to yourself. I can only pray that you'll understand one day not to waste this talent you have, the intelligence, the beauty that is you and the sensitivity and joy I've come to cherish and LOVE!