#4 didn’t come home after work yesterday. Later that afternoon, I went out looking for him. I went to the local Tavern (where by now they know me quite well) and the girl said “haven’t seen him.” Some drunk was sitting at the bar and patted the seat next to him and said “let me buy you a drink, honey.”
I almost said “do I look like I’m here to find some fucking body to buy me drinks and start paying my way?” but I didn’t. I just ignored him and walked out. He kept calling to me as I was leaving. Wow.
My next move was to call Herbie, one of #4’s AA buddies. He told me about a bar down the street where he had picked up #4 before. I couldn’t find it so I just went back home. A few hours later, I called Herbie again and asked him if he would help me look for him.
Herbie is a nice guy who goes to AA because he says he’s a “potential alcoholic.” He was gracious and more than willing to help. He came and picked me up and we went “bar-hopping.” The first one we hit, knew #4 well. He had been banned from there but the bartender was really nice and gave us some suggestions of where to look next.
We went to all these sleazy, off the beaten path bars and the smell was just overpowering. It smelled like old booze and old boozers. I guess that’s the way a bar is supposed to smell.
Herbie knew of a liquor store down the street, so we went there. When we pulled up, #4 was standing outside. He saw us and walked over to the passenger side of the car and told Herbie to roll down the window. He did and #4 said “get out.” Herbie asked him why and #4 just repeated “get out.” Herbie asked him why again, and #4 said “I want to give you a hug.”
Herbie got out and #4 hugged him. We talked him into getting in the car and #4 started…”MY FUCKING MOM DOESN’T HUG! MY FUCKING MOM DOESN’T HUG!”
The night before, between calling me a “selfish fucking cunt,” and yelling “fuck you,” he kept wanting to hug me. I kept telling him no. I know that makes me a “wonderful mama” but I finally asked him if he had any idea how much I hated being hugged by a drunk. The only time Loser wanted to hug me was when he was loaded. He smelled like fucking beer and I HATED IT. #4 wants to hug me when he’s loaded and yes, I HATE IT.
I was amazed when he said I was the reason he was a drunk…AGAIN….because I had an alcoholic uncle. Never mind that his daddy and his daddy’s mama are raging drunks. He said “the (****) genes are PURE and that’s NOT where I got my alcoholism.” Another wow.
He’s had a relationship with two lovely girls. One in Charleston and one in Florida. They both ended. He accused me of “having words” with the girl in Charleston and after that, she dumped him. (It couldn’t have been that they had a beautiful little boy who the mother didn’t want exposed to a drunken father.)
The second relationship I ruined was the one in Florida because “I’m a fucking bitch.” I guess he took that phrase from Loser. (Again, it couldn’t be that they too, had a beautiful little boy and the mother didn’t want a drunken father around.)
It’s my fault that our marriage ended. I should have let Loser have “his tramps” because “everybody knows he wanted to be married to an honorable woman like me…but I just fucking left.”
“When you left, you destroyed my life. You could have stayed….for us….but you’re so fucking selfish.”
It’s funny, he never once mentioned that his daddy was a lying, cheating, disease-giving, abusive drunk, who treated me like garbage and wanted to turn me into his whore.
He hates my stories. He mentioned the Ice Pick Killer. He said “you want to drive a fucking ice pick through dads’ head. (Can’t say he’s wrong there.) “You want to kill somebody? Tell me who it is and I’ll kill them for you.” (That was scary.)
He waffled between being remorseful and gritting his teeth and snarling like a rabid dog…which reminded me so much of Loser.
He asked me what I was going to do if he got drunker later that afternoon. Yet another wow.
Then he looked at me and said “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.”
Before that really sunk in, Herbie called and asked him if he wanted to go to a meeting. #4 said he did so Herbie said he and Larry would come get him. About an hour later, they showed up and #4 decided he didn’t want to go. I told him that we had discussed AA and it had been a non-negotiable condition of him staying here.
He reluctantly agreed but when they were walking toward the car, he kept walking. Then he started running. They caught up with him and got him to the AA meeting. #4 promptly left, with everybody there begging him not to go.
He showed up on my back porch a few hours later. He kept knocking on the door. I finally opened it and he asked me if he could just lay down for a while. Of course, idiot that I am, I let him in.
I spent some time last night, thinking. I think he clearly hates me and blames me for everything. He told me that after he had been sober for five years and I left Loser, it was too much for him so he fell off the wagon. I believe him. It’s okay if he hates me. It’s easier than admitting he actually hates Loser. I’m still here and he can take his frustration and anger out on me. God forbid Loser should suffer. None of his children want that.
He’s up and just left to “go check his work schedule.” I think the odds are 50/50 that he’ll be back and the same that he comes back…sober.
At some point, I looked him in the eye and said “are you trying to drink yourself to death?”
With no hesitation, he said “yes.”