Settling Dust

What a freakin' week this has been since my last post! I left for Connecticut on Thursday afternoon, with a cold. The border patrol searched my car before they'd let me cross, then I had to register with Immigration too. After driving for eight hours, I certainly felt no better when we finally got there. It snowed from Mass. down, so eight hours was pretty good time I guess. Friday morning when I woke up, I felt even worse, so I doubled my dose of medication, which in the end, proved pretty effective :)

It turns out that Brad's "thing" he had to do was go to his first one-on-one meeting with his addiction councellor. Needless to say I felt really bad when I found that tidbit out, for being about half-pissed off when he said he couldn't drive me over Thursday afternoon. Anyways, I left him my spare set of keys and he got a drive over later that night and picked my car up for me. He called my cell to let me know he had gotten it, around 10 p.m. Thursday night. Before he hung up, he said that he had to talk to me about something when I got back, and never went in to any other detail, so of course that's what I thought about all weekend.

I called him Sunday to let him know that we were running late, and if I wasn't back before he had to go to work, just to take my car and I'd get a ride to his work and pick it up there. So when I got to his work, I grabbed a hardhat and went inside the factory where he works (and I used to work, so I knew where I was going) He had this big smile on his face when I walked up the stairs to where he was watching security monitors. It was loud in there, and another guy was lurking around so I knew we couldn't talk here. Plus I was still sick, and exhausted and just wanted to go home, unpack, and go to bed. But when Brad saw me, he told me I looked like shit; I said the same to him because he was also sick. He asked how my weekend was, and I kinda downplayed it because, despite being sick, it was pretty fun. I purposely left out the part about getting completely shitfaced Saturday night to curb my cold symptoms, and Brad picked up on that right away.

"You get drunk at all?" He asked me.
"No, didn't really feel like it, plus I was meeting new, influential people so I wanted to leave a fairly good impression..." I replied.

"Did you?" I asked him with a sheepish look on my face.
"No," he grinned "but I sure wanted to Saturday night. Just because it was Saturday night, but I didn't. That's all I dreamt about all night..." He said, looking down.

"Man, that's normal. That's the first Saturday night in years that you haven't got drunk." I told him.

Then he sighed, "Man, this is hard. Like, I know I've quit before, but I never said anything about being an alcoholic and now I have these courses and meetings to go to and every time I have nothing to do, that's all I think about doing (meaning drinking) and now all I want to do is work to keep myself busy. The weekends are the worst, like every Friday night, what did we used to do? You'd pick me up, and we'd get drunk. Saturday, I'd roll outta bed around noon and do it all over again and it just became a habit that got harder and harder to break and now nothing seems the same. Mom and dad treat me different, better but different, and (Bitch) won't leave me alone, she's always on my back asking if I want anything, if I wanna do this or do that and I just want her to leave me alone, and Saturday night she was really bad, and I just wanted to go somewhere quiet but no one else was there to get me out of the house" and when he said that, he gave me this weird look.

"Are you mad because I went away for the weekend?" I asked him.

He said "Well, no I'm not mad, I knew you had that trip planned, and I had to work all weekend anyways, but Saturday night I just wanted to go... to th'... I wanted to go to the camp."

"Oh." I said to him. "Well, we can go to the camp anytime you want, you know that, right?" I asked him.

"Yeah, maybe we could..." He started, but the lurker had moved back to the desk next to us.

"I need to go out back and check some stuff. I'll give you a call Tuesday night. I have to work the day shift that day but then I'm off until Saturday again." He told me.

"Okay, gimme a call." I said, then turned and walked down the stairs. He was following me, and as we turned the corner at the bottom, he grabbed my ass. When I turned around, he put his hand lightly on my crotch.

"We need to go SOON." Brad whispered, and winked at me.

I smiled, and promised him we would go somewhere as soon as possible.

When I got to my car, I discovered that Brad had washed it, cleaned the interior up a bit, filled the gas tank, and rewired my rear speakers (which had been bugging him for months because one of them was vibrating). Man, he'd worked all weekend, and still found time to do all this. He really must have needed to keep busy! The car smelled like him. I hadn't realized how bad I actually missed him all weekend until I saw him. Now my car smelled like him. All I could think about while I was gone was if he was breaking down, drinking again, and if not, where he realized he had to change his life drastically if we would keep "us" going. It sounds selfish but a part of me was wishing that things could just stay the same, I could put up with his drinking as long as we would still fuck. I feel horrible for thinking that, but that's how strongly I felt. But now, apparently he still wanted to do it, so I wasn't going to object by any means.

So hopefully this weekend we will get a trip to the cabin in. The only problem is, if we told Bitch where we were going, and that she couldn't go, that would pretty much give it away. And if we just disappeared like we used to, people would think that
a. we had no doubt gone to get drunk somewhere, and
b. that we were shackin' up for sure

So we'll have to work something out... Because Brad's right. We do have to go somewhere soon. VERY soon.