dazed days [open]
Mar 31, 2023 20:19:26 GMT -5
Post by djed carnelian . d8m [kap] on Mar 31, 2023 20:19:26 GMT -5
zedekiah luna
what partof livingtw: alcoholism, child abuse
Your boyfriend seems to have dropped off the face of the Earth, and now you've dropped back into your bad habits worse than ever before. Drinking was always something you'd relied on, ever since you knew it was an option. Your abusive father made it so that it was pretty much all you could do to numb the pain. The only time you didn't really feel that pain was when you were with your boyfriend, and that even helped you to start drinking less, but once he was gone, so was that safety net.
So, back to drinking it was.
For a while, you would hide your drinking: you'd do it at home when your father was out, or in the locker room at the career training gym when it was relatively empty. You'd gotten in trouble a few times for drinking in public places like the locker room, though, so you'd finally made the decision to just go to a damn bar. It was a bit more expensive than drinking at home with the cheap beer you'd bought, but it was more convenient.
Sitting at the bar, you ordered one of the beers they had on tap and thanked the bartender when she brought it to you. As you sipped on your beer and slowly chipped away at your basket of onion rings, you listened in on other people's conversations at the bar.
In the time you were sitting there, you learned of one man's divorce and another man's gambling problem. Tie all that in with your alcoholism, and it sounded like most of the people here at least had some sort of problem going on. That's life for you, you supposed.
You sat back and smirked as you heard someone hopelessly making an attempt to flirt with the bartender. Usually, you weren't being social with other people in the bar, but you certainly didn't mind being around those who were being social, since it was a bit of a form of entertainment.
As you took another sip from your beer, you heard someone say something to you, but didn't quite catch what they said. Setting down your beer, you look in their direction.
"Hm?" you mumble. "Sorry," you speak up more. "I didn't quite catch that."
All that listening to other people's conversations in the bar and you don't catch what the one person speaking to you said. Of course. Your father would've called you oblivious and smacked you across the face for something as dumb as that. Thankfully, he wasn't here.
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416 wordssays yougotta die
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