Buddy, it's over. Yeah, I have fun when we go out, because you see who I truly am and you just turn it up a few more notches. People fucking love that. You have an ability to open me up to that slightly manic side that I can rarely access, the part of me that isn't a person, but a force of nature.
But then I pay for it. I have slept off and on all day, and combined with my little nutritional mistep at Bob Evan's earlier, I've spent the afternoon on GI red alert. I'm tired of paying you back with interest.
I'm just tired. Tired of the little "am I or aren't I" debate that rages in my head. I think about how I would respond to a client who offered up the rationalizations I use. Well, yeah, I have a high tolerance, but it's genetic. I never drink more than I intended because I intend to get drunk, and I haven't puked from alcohol in years. Yeah, I think about alcohol because it's my job to think about alcohol, and thats the only reason I have a persistent desire to stop using. Yeah, I know my blood pressure is borderline high, but if I really cared about that, I wouldn't eat fast food either.
Yep, that client would find his happy ass in counseling faster than you can say "demonstrates little or no insight regarding the consequences of his alcohol use".
Yeah, my "problem" is nowhere near the problems I see everyday, and I'm not just talking about clients, as I'm friends with several people who might as well have "functional alcoholic" tattoed on their foreheads. That doesn't mean it's okay for me to keep seeing you like we have been. I'm nowhere near impaired professional status yet, and I'd like to keep it that way.
So, Al, it's time for you to go. You can keep your Miller Lite in the fridge until guests finish it off, but we're done. We had a good run, and a mix of memories, most of them positive, but I know the way you work, and your endurance game never ends well for your partner.
your former lover