In August I had just arrived from my 80 mile drive to visit the alcoholic guy friend who desperately wanted me to be his girlfriend, and he seemed angry at me for how much he spent on mezcal for me, even though I never asked him to buy alcohol for me. So that I would feel obligated to drink the whole thing, I guess? Was he just looking for someone to die with him and thought goth girl would be a fun choice to see him to the grave? He looked at me with an angry face about how he paid for that mezcal I never asked for. He knew I don't drink anymore. I was surprised and confused by his gift I never asked for that came with a side of anger/guilt tripping, but I said thank you? Then felt obligated to drink it even though he knew I was being sober. I guess it was just mental illness that got worse as his alcoholism progressed. This was two months before his death. Then again, he never really listened to me or honored boundaries.
I almost set the smoke alarms off while writing this. I hadn't noticed that the tea kettle water had boiled down to nothing. It got really smokey before I noticed. Let's try not to accidentally kill ourselves too...
I haven't been dreaming, I wake before sunrise trying to process grief, then I drink too much coffee and write until I collapse. But you can't outrun grief, so I have to sit with this motherfucker and hold its hand for as long as it takes.
I have three air filters running on the maximum setting and it still smells like I'm inside a burning building.
I regret getting close to him. He was resentful about buying a sober person a bottle of mezcal I never asked for. I feel resentful for the guilt I never asked for, which I am having for a boy I never wanted to date. I shouldn't be here grieving at all. He dragged me into this, held me hostage to watch him drink himself to death. I'd have taken him more seriously if he didn't drink so hard, I'd have visited more, but he seemed preoccupied with booze, so I avoided him. When I saw him in August, he'd deteriorated to a near corpse already. Did he think that's what I wanted in a man? He was a salesman, and he was trying to sell me a corpse, a temporary relationship that he KNEW would end in grief, all while lying about it. I went to such great lengths to avoid him despite his every effort to trap me. He was so averse to hearing a woman say no to his unwanted advances that he straight up died? And now I have to live with that? All this grief for a drunk I had blocked for much of the past couple years.. I only saw him for like a month in 2019, long distance, very little contact after that because I entered sobriety and got away, but he acted as if I was his wife? It feels like I was ambushed, forced to date a dying man, then left to feel like it was all my fault for upsetting him by saying no. Never had anyone kill themselves before just because I said no. It's quite psychologically distressing. It feels like the ultimate abuse, because I can't even feel mad, because he's dead. I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but I kind of hate him for forcing me to participate in this nightmare, and I'm the one who has to go on living after he thoughtlessly murdered his own liver without caring how it affected anyone.
7:02 a.m. - 2022-10-28