Fictional Excerpt Inspired By The Picture Above:
“I'm not drinking,” she seethed, her freckles almost jumping of the bridge of her nose. She sat down, elbows on her knees, hands spread across her forehead.
“I'm glad you're not. But you still have to leave. You can't live here anymore.”
She let out an extended grunt and threw her whole body back into the chair.
I took a sip of my coffee, hoping to calm my nerves, as well as give them the strength to continue. I didn't want her to leave. I wanted her to still live with me. But her bad choices, her disease, were draining me and I no longer trusted her.
“I'm trying. You said as long as I try.”
“I know what I said. And you are trying...again. But I can't try with you anymore.”
The last six relapses flashed through my mind, and waves of anxiety swept over me like a sandcastle too close to the last tide. She really did try. Each time. And I was sure she was going to try again, but I couldn't live with the doubt any longer, the lies, the fear of coming home one day and finding her not breathing on the kitchen floor...
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