Fulfilling .49

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Patrick

There's a lot of pressure that goes with what we were able to do from the year 2010-2015. For that five year period, six seasons to be exact, there was not a force in this world more powerful than this team. The word "dynasty" isn't something people throw out lightly. But in six seasons winning the cup three times and making it to the conference finals two other times, well it's unprecedented. Especially in hockey. What we did was unthinkable. It was incredible. It was what every little kid who laced up their skates in pee wee hockey dreamed of doing.

But to be that high only means you have that far to fall. Personally I did great two seasons ago, had the most points in the entire NHL. We were the top team in the west. Then the next year we lose in 4 straight games to the Predators. Then post season we trade away my favorite line-mate and all of the sudden the playoffs look like a fever dream. From top of the world to the bottom of the barrel in just three years.

How the mighty have fallen.

After another really bad loss I haul ass back to my apartment. I know my phone is blowing up from people trying to console me but I don't have the energy to look at it. I promise it isn't anything I want to hear right now. It's not often I get in these moods, feeling sorry for myself. Feeling so empty.

I go straight to the fridge and find the closest beer bottle. Without even thinking I crack it open and down it before heading for a second one. I grab the next bottle but I get stopped in my tracks. I see a post it note with the words "I love you most" on it.

My whole body freezes and it felt like my muscles were going to shatter if I moved. Every fiber of muscle memory I had when it came to drowning my sorrows in beer was forgotten. I no longer wanted to drink. I wanted to be better. And all it took, was this one little note.

*flashback*

"Why do you have all of this shit" Valerie asked as she looked through my refrigerator. There wasn't a lot of food but there was a lot of beer. I don't know how to cook but I do know how to drink.

"Because it tastes good" I tried. Her eyebrows raise letting me know I wasn't fooling anyone but myself with that excuse. "Not buying it huh" I chuckled.

"You love me, right" she asked.

"More than anything" I said softly.

"So look me in the eye, and tell me truthfully, why do you need this" she questioned showing me the bottle in her hand.

I had no answer. No good one at least. At the time I never stopped to think about the problem in my drinking problem. It was just drinking. And now I feel like I gave her crap for all the excuses she gives for her habits when I have enough of my own.

"Because it's filling. Whenever I felt like there was nothing left in me I would drink and I was full again" I whispered.

"Do you truly think that emptiness can be filled with more emptiness? Drinking. Bad friends. Putting yourself in shitty situations you will regret not even a day later. But for a fraction of a moment you were full and you thought it was right. For a few seconds you no longer felt empty. Like holding water in your hands it always ends up slipping through.

None of this is sustainable. That's why you have to keep drinking because that's not supposed to keep you filled. It's like a match where it holds a fire but only for long enough for one use. If you want a fire again you need another match, then another and another. Suddenly the book is empty and so are you. No matter how much you drink, no matter how many matches you light, it's never meant to stay.

There are better ways to get your fill. Less harmful ways. You don't need this Patrick. I know you think you do. You and I are one in the same in the way we believe in thinking that this is the way things have to be.

You showed me that it doesn't have to be like this. That there are ways to heal without making excuses" she explained.

I knew at the time that I wanted to change. But change is easier said than done. I know drinking like I did only got me closer from my livers failing or me getting in some trouble while being under the influence. Maybe this was that push I needed.

"You know I can't just stop" I told her.

"I know. There's things I'm still working on too, every day. Habits that break only in time. But I don't have to do it alone, and neither do you" she smiled.

I smiled back before she turned back to the fridge. It took her a while and I didn't know she was putting the note in the fridge. She knew the only time I would be here was when I needed my fill. When I thought I needed it to help me.

But her words filled me more than any drink ever did. That emptiness was gone the moment I saw her handwriting.

I pick up the bottles and open every single one of them. Within a few minutes I pour them all down the drain. The remains are tossed into the trash and all that was left was the post it note. I put it on my fridge and smile. I hope this feeling never goes away.

My phone goes off again but this time it was Valerie by Amy Winehouse so I know who it is. I practically run to my phone to answer it.

"Hey baby" I start.

"Hi Pat, how are you" she asks and I smile.

"I was having a rough night, but I found your note in the fridge and I'm doing a lot better" I admit.

"That's good. Did you..." she trails off. I know she didn't want to pry, but I love that she cares.

"I dumped them. I realized that when I would drink them, as they got empty I thought I was being filled. But I wasn't. All I had left was more empty vessels reminding me that through this life nothing much can fulfill my wants, my needs" I explain.

"Now you do" she asks.

"I have you. And every empty feeling is filled with meaning thanks to you. I would honestly do anything to see you right now" I sigh.

"Then let me up. It's cold" she claims.

"Excuse me" I ask.

"It's late so there's no one to let me up. It's cold" she reminds me.

I don't even respond as I toss my phone. I get down stairs as fast as I can and open the door. Low and behold there she stood in all her beauty.

It took me no time at all to pull her inside the building where it was warm. I get my lips on hers as fast as they could. It's like I was craving the taste of her lips. Like this will fill me up the rest of the way. And it did.

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