I sat on the cold tile floor in front of the cabinet that holds our liquor. I’ve been hot this evening so I just enjoyed the chill I got for a moment before quietly opening the door to the cabinet. Sometimes I like the purposefulness of trying to be so very, very quiet. All of your motions are slow and deliberate. Having to think about each tiny move you make so as not to make any sort of sound arouses my senses.
With the cabinet open I sat for a minute to listen. I looked at the pretty bottles and the collection of glasses I would have to slowly and deliberately move to get to what I wanted. My child moved in her room next door but she didn’t get up. I took out the shaker and sat it on the bar. I removed two double shot glasses and sat them next to me. I took out a bottle of vodka and sat it aside. I looked in the cabinet to see where things were before I blindly started digging around and knocking over glass. My dear bottle of Crown was towards the back but not hard to get. I took it out and noticed where the amount of liquor hit the label. Not that I would ever add water back to a bottle of whiskey that cost nearly $30 but I wanted to know if what I was about to drink would be noticeable.
Now I have never had Crown straight up before. But this afternoon as I sat in my car sobbing it’s just about all I could think about. But as I started to put the things I’d removed back in the cabinet before pouring myself a glass (the last thing I needed was for someone to get up and see all these liquor glasses sitting in the floor – it would be easier to quickly hide one bottle if I heard someone coming) the vodka seemed more tempting. It’s cobalt blue bottle shined in the light from the patio doors outside. I held it up – there was a lot more of it than there was of my precious Crown. I thought about how much I enjoy a Crown and Coke and how if I made myself sick on the Crown tonight I’d likely never want a Crown and Coke again.
I had to get up and wash a shot glass. I barely turned the kitchen faucet on and decided a rinse in cold water would be enough. A little dust wouldn’t hurt me. But I’m a lady and I need a clean glass. I rinsed and dried it several times. Procrastinating to see if I could hear anyone awake. I ran the glass full of water to see how many swallows it would take me to get it all down. Practicing before I put the real stuff in. I wanted to be able to swallow all of the vodka at once and this was a big shot glass. After three tries I figured out where to pour the vodka to so that I’d be able to just take one big gulp. Two fingers from the bottom. I sat down again and opened the bottle. I smelled it although I did not expect to smell anything. I stuck my finger in the liquid and tasted it. I got up one more time and cradled my glass like a MIng vase. I walked into the hall to peer into my daughter’s room. I then turned around to look in my son’s room. I went in and felt his chest. Then I went back to my daughter’s room and kissed her. I want them to be better than me. Stronger than me.
I poured some. I didn’t have to courage to take the big gulp. Just like I don’t have to courage to leave. Just like I don’t have the courage to run my car off the road. Just like I don’t have the courage to tell my friends that I think I might have an alcohol problem can they help me please before it gets worse and I end up in some clinic and my kids are ashamed of me and my husband leaves me not because he’s gay but because I’m a drunk and I look like an old hag and smell of hard liquor all the time.
I tasted it slowly. My first tiny swallow burned my throat. Ick. But that stopped and what I was left with was a pleasant tingling tongue and lips. Another tiny sip. The burning was less. The tingling was better. A little voice (probably the devil himself) said that if I just drink it all the tingling will be inside me instead of just on my lips. Like and orgasm. I haven’t had one in a while it seems……..
I cried. I put my head in my hands and cried. I asked God what I should do. Should I tell my husband how much it hurts? Should I tell him I need him and the physical affection even more than I realized? Should I tell him I need him to make love to me? I asked God to give me strength and to take away this temptation.
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I don’t understand why temptation seems to come at you more frequently when you are already down and feeling like shit. For instance, I was not a drinker before Jay came out. I never ever remember serious opportunities arising for a casual sexual encounter without my husband knowing until now. I could so easily fulfill my need for physical pleasure right now with a man I came very close to sleeping with once in my life and Jay would never know about it. What sucks is I don’t think Jay would care. That’s why it’s not worth it.
