Intoxicated

It was supposed to be a party. Just a party. A fun way to ring in the New Year with a few friends. That's all.

So how did things end up like this?

It was kind of a "two-in-one" celebration really. Crystal and I had just moved into our new apartment about a week ago. So we thought of it as kind of a delayed housewarming party too.

She was so excited for everybody to see the place. She spent the entire morning running around, getting it ready. Cooking up snacks, putting up decorations, shoving the boxes we still hadn't unpacked into closets. She barely let me help with anything. Every time I tried she'd gently shoo me away and takeover whatever I'd been doing.

"Val, stop. I got it," she insisted. "You just rest up today. You've been killing yourself at work all week."

She was kind of right. I had been working extra hours this week. I had to. Moving to this place had eaten up all of our savings. I really needed the extra cash if we wanted to eat anything more than Ramen noodles in the coming year.

But it was all worth it. Because I was finally living with Crystal.

My mom was your classic bible-thumper. Church on Sundays, holier-than-thou attitude, burn the gays, and all that bullshit. No explanation needed that I already wasn't very close with her, but I still needed to stay on her good side if I wanted to stay in the house. Crystal's family already thought I was trash. If they found out I was homeless too? I never would've seen her again.

In all honesty, I don't think the whole "lesbian" thing itself really bothered her parents. After all, gays could still earn money, right?

That's what they really hated about me. I wasn't rich like they were. My mom made minimum wage on a good month, and although my job didn't exactly pay bad, it still wasn't enough. At least, not good enough to be worthy of their precious baby girl.

They tolerated me to appease her, but were never shy to make it known that my presence was unwelcome in their little world. Whether it was her mother's passive-aggressive comments or her father's cold silence, their disdain was clearly communicated.

But Crystal wasn't like that. Try as they might to primp and groom her into their perfect little elite, she never really fit into that mold. Her heart was too big to ever fit into something so narrow-minded.

From the first day I met her, she'd shown me nothing but warmth and kindness. Even when she found out I was gay. Although, at the time, I don't think she ever once imagined she'd be the one dating me.

Which is why it was probably a good thing that her parents never really gave me the time of day. I think it made it easier to hide the truth from them. Gay? No problem. But if they knew she was dating me? They probably would have disowned her.

Crystal wouldn't have cared. I knew she wouldn't have. As long as we have each other, then no one else matters. That's what she would have said. But I didn't want that for her. I wanted our time together to be blissful and filled with happy memories. Not miserable while we starved out on the streets.

So, I worked. Weekends, overtime, holidays. Every second I wasn't with Crystal, I was at the office, furiously grinding away just to earn a little bit more that month. Just to be with her.

And now, I was. I told my "holy mother" that she could go eat a load of holy shit. Of course, she wept and wailed about "what I was doing to her," and "what would the other church members say." But I don't think the actual loss of her daughter was really all that devastating to her.

Crystal's parents. Now that was rough. There was nothing they didn't offer to buy her, no place off limits for her to travel to. If they could have, I think they would have offered her every last star in the sky if she would just stay there with them. And, of course, leave me.