12/23/15

For days, I tried to ignore the break-up. I tried to tell myself I didn’t care. But I couldn’t lie to myself for long.. It was easy to lie to others, at work. They’d find out Natalie and I had broken up, and instead of getting any sympathy, I received congratulations for being rid of her. The sympathy would’ve been better.

For several days, I moped around, feeling more and more depressed. Despite being told constantly that I was better off without her, I didn’t believe it. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I managed to convince myself that I had never been happier than when I had been with her. I ignored all the eyewitness testimonies of my friends, who claimed that I had looked more and more depressed and stressed every day for the past three months.

A few days into this senseless depression, I went by the liquor store on the way home from work and purchased a half bottle of Crown Black. It was ninety proof, which meant I would be able to get mo’ drunk mo’ faster. I went home, put Natalie’s dog in his kennel �" for some reason he was still staying with me �" and popped open the bottle. I poured two ounces in a glass, and sat in front of the television, deciding to drink until I passed out.I had only been drunk once in my life, about a month previous, the night my roommate, Adam, and I had moved into the apartment. Natalie had wanted to get me drunk, but once she got me there, she wasn’t happy about it. I had plopped down on the couch and proclaimed how very much I felt like Captain Jack Sparrow at that moment. A few minutes later, I had grabbed my guitar, and begun singing her a song I had written for her, and somehow that made her more angry. Adam, who could hardly stand up straight the second half of the night, vomited off the porch a couple times before going to bed. Strangely enough, I did not at all like the feeling of being drunk that first time, and vowed never to be so again. I broke that promise.

I threw the whiskey down my throat, and immediately went and refilled the glass. As I was pouring, Adam walked in with Tiffany, a girl he had been seeing, who happened to be one of Natalie’s friends

“What’s up?” I greeted, as they sat down on the couch. “Watch whatever you want, I don’t plan on being conscious much longer.”

I raised the glass of whiskey in a mock toast. Adam looked a bit alarmed, but hid it pretty well. I doubt Tiffany picked up on it. I didn’t drink often at the time, and never to get drunk �" not counting, of course, the night Natalie had encouraged me to do so �" and he knew something was off.

After several pours, I started talking s**t about Natalie. I’m not proud of it, but that’s one of the ways I deal with heartbreak. It’s a fucked up way to handle it, and it usually just makes things worse, but I can’t seem to stop.

At this point, Tiffany started encouraging me to drink whenever I would mention anything about Natalie, good or bad, and within ten minutes the room was spinning.

“Adam?”

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Pour the rest of the bottle in here.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea. Please?”

He got up and grabbed my glass from the little table next to the chair I was slumped in.

“Holy s**t, there’s only like half a shot in here!”

“F**k yeah there is!”

I didn’t hear him set the glass back on the table, but I saw him sit back down. When I looked, it was there. I thought about reaching for it for a while. I was in a state where time was moving quite randomly, and not at all like it usually did, so it could’ve been three minutes or thirty when I spoke again.

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t need to drink this. Can you go pour it out?”

He did. I stayed in the chair a little longer, understanding fully I was going to vomit, but unsure whether I possessed the motor skills to get up and make it to the bathroom. Then, I felt it coming, and stood up.

“Goodnight,” I slurred, swaying more than a bit. “You kids have fun.”

I made my way down the hall and into the bathroom, and managed to get the door closed. Then it came. The toilet seat was still down, so I turned to the tub, spraying the corner of the shower curtain in the process. After several quick rounds, I stopped puking long enough to get the seat up, and then I was on the bathroom floor, clinging to the plastic seat. For the next while, I cycled through stages of passing out, and waking up just long enough to vomit. The last time I woke up, Natalie was standing over me, yelling. I had forgotten she still had a key, and she had finally come to get her dog. Perfect timing.After she got done yelling, she helped me get to bed, and pulled my vomit soaked sweatshirt off, so I wouldn’t get it everywhere. I passed out again, but this time, at least, I was in bed and not on the bathroom floor. It’s the little things.

The next morning, I awoke to my alarms, feeling worse than I’d ever felt in my life �" that includes the times I had the flu, and the times I had pneumonia �" and saw I had a text from Natalie. I didn’t open it. She was the last person I wanted to talk to right then. I got a quick shower, and despite feeling like death, made it to work on time.

The first hour I was at work, I made about six trips to the bathroom. I knew I wasn’t going to make it much longer, so I told my boss, Chad, I had eaten some bad tacos the night before, and my stomach was messed up. We called a few people and got someone to come in for me, and I went home.

When I got home, I remembered the message, and decided to open it. I didn’t plan on responding, but I hated seeing the little notifications on my screen.

You better be on time t work in the morning i textd chad and told him you were shitfaced last nite

The b***h had actually taken the time and effort to tell my boss that I had been drunk the night before, hoping I would show up to work late and get fired. I was shocked, but hardly surprised. She always had been a vengeful person. I blocked her on everything after that. I deleted her phone number. I was absolutely done with her.

Chad never mentioned the text to me. I’ve often wondered if Natalie actually sent it, or if she was just making sure �" in her own way �" that I would make it to work on time the next day.

That night came to be known as the Crown Black Incident amongst my friends. We remembered it jokingly, always laughing, but it was probably one of the saddest and lowest points of my life. It kicked off a very interesting period of time for me, one I look back on often. Not every moment was good, but it made me who I am today.