Unsteady (COMPLETED)

TWENTY-TWO

Then - Carmella

Living with Mike was easy - even with his mother. The woman was a drunk - there was no way of putting it lightly - but she was probably one of the kindest women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. She took me in without questioning me and treated me like her own daughter. 

In actuality, she was more of a mother to me than my own and I feel like we filled the void that the other one had - she was missing a child and I was missing my parents. 

And then there was Mike. Everything with him was just perfect. We didn't fight. He didn't pressure me. He made me feel good on my bad days and he was always there when I needed him. 

He helped me so much and I don't think I could ever repay him. He was everything I needed in a boyfriend and I couldn't have been happier. 

But things began to change when he started going to College three years ago. He started partying. At first it was only a night here and there, but eventually, it would be every weekend and even some days through the week. He would come home completely wasted, sometimes even unable to walk without one of his buddies holding him up. 

I worried about him. I was concerned that simple partying was starting to become a problem, but I never said anything. I played the dutiful girlfriend who helped him after a night out with no questions asked. I was there with Tylenol and water every morning to chase the hangovers away. I was there with a bucket during the night for when the whiskey hit his stomach too hard and he needed to empty its contents. 

I was there for him through all that time. 

It got to the point where I knew his drinking was affecting his life - I saw his grades and he couldn't keep a job. And it was affecting mine too. 

So much so, that today I am sitting on our couch in our little one bedroom apartment, waiting for him to come home so we can talk. It's a long shot - I know - but all I can do is hope that tonight there isn't a party. All I can do is hope that he will come home sober and listen to what I have to say. 

Because I love him. I love him with every fibre of my being and I want to be there for him through thick and thin. I want to stand by his side for my entire life, but I can't do that if this is how things are going to be. I can't be my mother. I can't have a drunk for a lover. I can't. 

I refuse to live my life that way and right now, I am.

As I sit on the couch, I braid my raven, black hair over and over again as I watch the seconds on the clock tick by. He should, in theory, be here any minute now and my heart is pounding in anticipation. 

The sound of a key in the door's lock captures my attention and I lift my head. I wait for a second, watching as he opens the door and then closes it behind him. He walks over to the couch, a smile forming on his face when he sees me. The smile makes my heart flutter as always, almost stopping me from having this conversation. 

But I must. 

And I do. 

"Hey, love. How was your day?" He asks as he leans down and plants a kiss on my cheek. He then walks over to the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. 

"It was alright. I did really well with that essay." I say, nervously playing with the hem of my shorts. 

"That's great! I'm so proud of you." He says as he plops down beside me on the couch. 

I turn my body sideways so that I can watch him carefully and clear my throat. "Mike, we need to talk," I say, my voice wavering as the words exit my lips.