Writing Prompt #1: "Write about someone who picked the absolute wrong time to stop drinking."
As with most things these days, I learned of it through the internet. Really, what else was there to do at work except take advantage of the repository of human knowledge at our fingertips?
Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr – these days, it’s always about knowing everything at any time, and the only way to accomplish that is to subscribe to any and all places your friends are at. And then perhaps the ones they’re not at, just for the sake of knowing more.
But then, knowledge is a commodity people take for granted nowadays because of how easy it is to access, but as with all human tools, it can cause as much harm as good.
It was on Facebook.
A simple update that I could’ve sworn I’d unsubscribed to. It would’ve made more sense to unfriend him, but I’d decided against it. You didn’t want to be so crass as to unfriend your ex just because you broke up. No, people would think you were bitter, when really, you’re totally okay with just being friends.
It was a non-issue and staying friends on Facebook, liking the occasional post (but not every single one because that would be stalker-ish) or commenting a non-committal “LOL,” was the most blatant way to show everyone that you’d moved on.
YOUR EX is engaged.
Of course, it didn’t really say “YOUR EX,” but it might was well have.
My throat itched, my lips suddenly dry. God, I needed a drink.
How long had it been? Two years? Only two years, and he’s already engaged? Now, that’s just insensitive. And with such a public announcement, too.
Another update appeared. One of my friends was attending their engagement party. It read, YOUR NOT-REALLY FRIEND is going to YOUR EX’ never really loved you party.
My hands shook, my heart pounding. I swallowed something sour that rasped down my throat. Oh well. That was just another birthday greeting wall post I wouldn’t have to like when Facebook reminded everyone when my birthday was.
I stood up from my moderately comfortable chair, just enough that my back didn't ache but also stiff enough to keep me from dozing off, and started to stalk to the pantry. As an afterthought, I scrolled down my newsfeed first so people wouldn’t think I was fixating on the engagement. I wasn’t.
In the pantry, I poured myself a glass of water. Cold beaded the glass. When I drank it, the water was also cold. But it should’ve been hot, perhaps a bitter burning flowing smoothly down my throat. Yes, that sounded right.
The glass shook in my hand. I swallowed another mouthful. Cold was supposed to numb pain, but from my experience, warmth was better. Warmth preceded the butterflies that thrummed in my head, the weakness in my knees, the dimness of my sight, and later, the void in my memories. I took the glass with me when I went back to my desk.
I continued to scroll down. A message appeared, the red square boxing the number “1” glaring at me.
Did you see it yet?
See what? I responded.
YOUR EX got engaged!
REally? I hadn’t noticed. Wait, let me check. I waited a couple of beats. Oh wow! Glad to know he’s finally moved on LOL.
IKR :) You okay?
Why wouldn’t I be? LOL. I’m just glad we’re both happy now.
My friend messaged me again, but I ignored it. I’ll just tell her later that something came up. She’ll understand. Or, at least, she’ll understand what I wanted her to. That I am completely fine, and I have better things to do.
I drank some more cold, subpar water. I needed to since I was sweating it out now, each droplet of perspiration every bit as frigid. This was why I’d needed a warm drink. Sweat was also supposed to be warm. How was I supposed to excrete warm sweat when I was drinking cold water?
I glanced at the clock. Only half an hour until the end of the day. If nothing comes up, I could probably convince some of the other yuppies to go out for a drink with me. I wouldn’t drink, of course. It was all for their company. I’d promised myself when we broke up that I would no longer drink, after that hangover that seemed to last for days. And then, I swore it again on New Year’s Eve. And then again on the more recent New Year’s Eve.
I could do it. It was all about self-control.
I refreshed the page, and it immediately reloaded on the engagement announcement. With a shaking hand, I liked the announcement. It was the very least I could do.
My head continued to pound to music that I couldn’t hear.
I should’ve stopped drinking sooner. Maybe then, we could’ve… no.
I took another unsatisfying swallow. It was more difficult this time as the lump in my throat blocked its passage.
The addiction was still there. It never faded. Does it have to? It doesn’t. At least, not right now. I could stop any time I wanted. Later, perhaps. And so, I continued to scroll.
YOU ARE READING
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