Went out last night with my friends.
Extra people came which was awkward. A conversation of four or five works. A conversation of seven doesn't. To many people to follow.
But the time to just sit with friends and bullshit is highly coveted with me. I could sit and do that for hours. And I do.
The best part was taking a drink for the first time in three months. I just couldn't take anymore of life with out some kind of self medication. The second best part was comiserating with one of my good friends. Though his marriage is still a success, he strugles with a lot of the same things that I did, and it is good to know that I'm not alone.
So talking and drinking, and smoking, I felt like I was a bit more human again.
I was able to just be there. In that moment. Until I realized that I was running late to get home. And the sitter called. Welcome back to my new reality as single parent. I have to be there for the kiddos, even if I have to sacrifice some time with my friends. And the selfish part of me wants to say, "Nuts to that." But I love them to much to just be that kind of parent.
I think tonight I'm just going to hang with the kids in a big way.
Because as much as I would like to be the one that gets drunk, and wastes his nights. I can't. Because when I feel alone, A. is the one who curls up in bed with me. When I need a hug, I can always count on B. When I need to dance around the room to happy music, S. is always more than willing. I owe them my life in a lot of ways.
Not that I won't have nights to myself still.
Not that I won't have rum and cigarettes still.
Not that I'm suddenly cured of vice.
Sometimes all I am is vice.
File under vice.
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