Shared Interests

Saturday, 10 September 2011, around four in the morning.

She decided she wanted to cut back on her drinking, and suddenly hanging out in bars wasn’t a shared interest. I don’t think I drink too much, but “too much” is tricky. Quoth the Poet: “You say that I drink too much, well I say that’s half true. I drink half as much as my daddy did, I drink twice as much as you.” It may or may not be significant that that song is called “Thanking Jose Quervo”.

It became clear pretty quickly that alcohol was one of the pillars of our relationship. We were doomed. She’d probably have seen it sooner if looking into the future like that was in her nature; I’d probably have seen it sooner if I’d had the self-respect to acknowledge such problems.

On the one hand, everything looks different once the dust settles, which is itself deeply troubling. We have no real choice but to get on from day to day, deciding what’s true and false when we know from experience that the things we believe now might look completely insane to us in hindsight.

On the other hand, man. It’s a bummer how things work out, sometimes.