There was a lady who was a recovering alcoholic. Her problem was not so much that she was a recovering alcoholic but that she happened to live in an apartment right above her formerly favorite bar. This bar was her primary reason for leasing this particular dwelling. Now she was stuck in her lease and couldn’t afford to break it and move away.
During the day she was just fine because she was away from home. She wasn’t forced to constantly think about the bar and all that it held inside. She carried about her day just fine. She was happy-jovial even. All her friends thought she was doing great and were so very proud of her. But no one was there at bedtime when she was alone with her thoughts and memories. There was nobody to keep her from hearing the sounds from the bar below or to keep her from seeing the flashing neon lights through her window. There was nobody to chase away her memories of getting smashed at the bar or curling up in bed with a bottle of Jack cradled in her arms after a hard day at work.
Night after night she rocked herself back and forth while lying in bed listening to the laughter and music and watching the constant warm glow of the lights from below. She tossed and turned before finally falling asleep late at night, furled in her sheets with her back up against the cold brick wall next to her bed. After only getting a couple of hours of restless sleep it would be time to wake up and do it all over again…day after day.
That’s how my life has become lately. Since I broke up with my ex I haven’t had a decent nights rest yet. We had to move in with my grandma due to our finances and virtually being homeless, therefore we are stuck living together for the time being until she can save up enough money to move out. During the day I’m busy and I laugh and banter with my friends and they clap me on the back with pride for how well I appear to be doing now. But the nights are when it gets tough. I climb into the bed that we are still forced to share. I toss and turn while listening to her text, talk and laugh on her phone and her screen is constantly lighting up with new messages-much like the noise of the bar patrons and the flashing neon lights of the bar at night. I finally manage to fall asleep keeping as much distance between us as humanly possible by lying with my back up against the cold, cold brick wall that our bed is shoved up against.
I’m looking forward to the day when we both are set free. For sleeps sake! I’m tired and this is truly torture lying next to what you can’t have. Much like a bottle of Jack, it might feel good for a moment but it ain’t worth the pain from the hangover when the good times are over and you realize the mistake you made after sleeping with Jack or Jackie lol.