The Rainbow (Frerard) [underwater_sky]

May - Gold (Part Six)

            I was on watch again. I didn't mind; I was almost glad of it. Though I had explained the entire situation to Jasmine and she had called my parents to verify, she was still worried. Though I knew that I didn't want to go down that path anymore and I had told her my new plan to combat the urge, I also knew that this was what had happened the last time. I'd be good for a couple of days and then I'd want to drink again. Even my dad, who hated AA, didn't do it alone at first. I wasn't thinking of going to AA, but I knew that I needed to be watched after. I had already experienced an eclectic array of emotions since coming home that first night. It was as if all the feelings I had been repressing before were coming back, but taking their turns. My mood swings and self-doubt were even worse than Jasmine on pregnancy hormones, and even she felt comfortable making that comparison. But she loved me, she told me that over and over again. "I should have never made you promise," she confessed as we sat together in bed that night. "I'm sorry. I know you've always done what you can."

            I held her close to me, still feeling woozy, but also feeling a tremendous burden lifted. She was giving me permission that night to not be strong anymore. We had cried in front of one another before, but that had been different. We always had a reason; it seemed like I had always needed a reason to be upset before. Crying because I felt empty, that was crying without just cause, and I just thought it was impossible. Jasmine told me it was okay and I was surprised when it actually was. Nothing had changed but my own perception, but that seemed to be all I needed.

            "No man is an island," she told me, holding me close. When I said Gerard had said that once, she told me that they were reading The Tempest together. My heart ached then, even more than before. We fell asleep in one another's arms, utterly exhausted, but together. I had assured her that even when I was trying to escape, I would never leave her, or him, or Paloma.

            "I just needed a break," I said, but she shushed me. She understood, more than I could have fathomed, just how loud minds can be sometimes. And we needed a rest from them, so we slept.

            In the morning, I knew I was not alone. I didn't have to fight so hard to keep it together, because there would be no one left in my life if I did. The recovery period after an episode like this was still going to be difficult. Although I had by-passed a hangover, there was still that fuzzy in-between feeling when I was no longer drunk, but not distanced enough from the event to feel sober. I had to keep shaking off the feeling of failure, too. I was at a loss at what to do with my time now that I knew what I couldn't do, and I struggled to make up the difference that negation left. Prohibition always produced desire, Gerard had once told me, but I knew that so long as I desired something else in its wake I would be okay. I made love to Jasmine a lot on that Sunday after, trying to define my time through her. I knew that if I ever wanted to get past this, that I couldn't do it alone. Other than my time spent with Jasmine and Gerard, I had been trying to work through what my father had been telling me the rest of that weekend. Then on Monday, I walked right over to Mikey.

            "Hi," I said on our first break. "I need your help."

            The words sounded funny in my mouth, but as soon as they were out in the air, I did not regret them. Jasmine had told this to me using metaphors and stories, her language, and then through her body and her hands on me. I did not have to be solid and strong, and she let me be weak in her arms. But I needed to be more tactile with Mikey. I actually needed to ask for that help I desperately needed and he had offered, but I had been too ashamed to take before. This didn't mean I was a fuck up; it just meant I was human. Mikey had nodded, uttered an emphasized "Finally," and we discussed what we could in our quick break period. He told me more about their parents‘ illnesses and subsequent death (father had heart disease, which eventually lead to heart attack, and the mother had a series of strokes; they were sudden and quick illnesses along with deaths, but that did not mean that it didn't seem to last for decades). Mikey had tried to help them both, and then when his father died, assist his mother without putting her in a home. He had too many kids, an important job, and it became too much too fast. I wanted to ask if he did end up putting her in a home, but our break time ended. He had merely been telling me his story not to make a cohesive narrative, but to show me his human side too. When we had to depart, the emails began. In between conversations with Jasmine and clients on the phone, Mikey and I worked through what I needed.