We made our promises July 22nd 1995, but did not keep them.
I broke some too, but he broke the BIG one. We always vowed, over the years, to stick together and work things out.
It’s been a year without living with an alcoholic.
A year of loneliness and adaptation.
For as long as I’ve known Dean, he’s been looking for paper straws. Like old fashion, not plastic, drinking straws. Today at Target I found two different kinds, and I was initially SO excited to find them. Then I brought myself back to reality … that part of my life is dead. The first pack was all designer shit, cost 5 bucks, then I found another pack in the party section, smaller, only 1.99. It sure wasn’t the money that stopped me from buying them. Its that I do not will not should not buy him anything. Especially this weekend. Fuck that.
We should be at the beach. Instead my brother is spending a week in Santa Barbara with my mom’s RV. that should have been us.
That is not what Dean wanted out of life. He wanted a band, and he got his band … but could not find a role for me in that lifestyle.
So he left me here alone.