I drink for reason though, clarity maybe. Today would have been a year. On August 4th I went to dinner with the aforementioned man because my boyfriend wouldn't return my phone calls or texts or emails. A few days later we ended it, he said he was sorry, and I believed him. But I was finally free. Free from that neglectful, abusive relationship. Free.
Still, tonight would have been a year, and maybe we would have been drinking wine together, and whispering secrets to each other, and going somewhere remote to get away or see a play, and then we would have sex and it would be passionate and wonderful and he would groan my name in my ear over and over and over.
But it is over. And the sex isn't very good with this new man who never says my name, but does buy me sixty dollar bottles of wine, and his voice is bright and cheery when he hears it is me on the other end of the phone and shit, he answers the phone at least, so that's a step in the right direction.
It would have been a year. I had high hopes for that relationship. He "got" me. All sides of me. And at first I thought he understood, that I was born to do something, go somewhere, help someone. But later it became all about him, from who would get to go back to school first to who would say when we could have sex. And though he loved me, the control he exerted by only ever communicating on his terms was debilitating.
And I said things, no, I screamed things I've never screamed before, and felt helpless like I never thought I would be.
Because I am strong and courageous and born for bigger things than men and relationships. "Now Catherine, we all know you were born to shake the world," my sister Lauren once said to me.
But in this new relationship, he wants me to make it. He'll write and direct a play I'll star in. He'll book me a recording gig so I can make that CD I've wanted to. He'll give money to the people I believe in to help them achieve their dream. He'll spend time with the people I love and genuinely engage them and me. He'll take me to Peru and Paris and maybe even Marfa, Texas, and let me say no I don't want to have sex and just let me lay there next to him quiet and crying when I'm confused.
And I am confused. Fuck, I loved that bastard with whom I would have shared an anniversary tonight. But I left and there's no going back though I see now why women want to. It's easy to remember the comfort and forget the discontent.
No, no. There's only going forward now. And I'm twenty-two days into this new relationship and I'm almost finished with this bottle of wine. So it would have been a year. Who cares? It's a new year now. A new man. A new me.
Drinking a sixty dollar bottle of wine alone.
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