When I was nine, I started looking for bottles. In closets, kitchen cabinets and trash bins. Once I found fifteen of them, neatly lined up under the couch in the livingroom. Every find was a small triumph. And a big hole in my heart.

I don’t know how many gallons of wine and whiskey I’ve poured down the drain. Or how many times she promised to stop. Or how many times I believed her.

I still find bottles now and then. Still empty them in the sink. But she’s stopped making promises. And I’ve given up.

I can’t save her.


4 responses to “Bottles

  1. I went on the same hunt, but was never brave enough to pour it out…

    • Well, what good did it do? There are lots of full bottles at the liquor store. We were ok I guess, could’ve been worse, but still.

  2. Hard decision to give up trying to save, but still the only wise decison, to save your self. Hugs.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s