I know that he functions kindly.
I know that he never hit or yelled.
I know that he paid for college straight off.
But every memory I have is him with a beer.
How he came in on Christmas falling off the bed.
And when I tried to help him up he said,
"Stop it. You can’t do anything."
Since I started visiting from my college town where I’d managed to spend the last year I haven’t eaten anything but french fries and pizza because breweries aren’t vegetarian friendly.
I can’t focus.
I can’t string two sentences together.
My eyelid is starting to break out.
Every time I get a call my heart jumps.
Because I can’t think of any reason this wouldn’t have killed him.
But I do know all that.
And I understand why.
Which makes me feel like shit that I get so angry.
And that I regress back into a person who was waiting to change or die.
I only drink when I don’t want to be conscious.
So I feel that if I stop working at the edge of my capability
Or if I run out of novelty
Then that’s how I’ll end up too.