God, I woke up this morning and my throat was killing me. The hell did I do to myself last night?
I remember drinking. And yelling. Pissing in the tub.
Anthony. "Lemme get
some more."
Stephanie. "No, lie down."
Anthony. "No, I wannit."
Stephanie. "No."
Anthony. "But I'm
thirsty!"
Stephanie. "I'll get you some
7-Up. Lie down."
Anthony. "No, I want the
Seagrams. It's right there in that cup. I can see it. In the bottle. The brown one."
Richard. "Anthony, I poured it down the drain."
Anthony. "No, Richard, you wouldn't do that to whiskey!"
Ugh, god. I remember laughing at
everything but mostly myself. I remember falling, hard, onto my face, and thinking it was hilarious.
Damn, and I remember her telling me she knew, and she always knew, and she's sorry. And she's my
best friend and she loves me. But not the way I want her to. But she does love me, and when I'm sober we'll talk about it, okay?
And I remember sobbing, just sobbing into her lap.