dinner with an old friend

Last night I had dinner with an old friend. It's been, I'd guess, nearly 14 years since last we've hung out. That evening was similiar - a blur of old stories, unrestrained laughter, surrending finally to sleep without bothering to pick up a tooth brush.

Today, all day, I remember why we broke up. The throbbing tightness of my sinus, the unsteady gurgling in my stomach, the dehydration and disorientation, the mysterious bruises... My husband has been picking up the pieces of my broken self for years. Like a machine, he set to work putting my world back together. Starchy foods, fluffed pillows, otter pops, the ocean breeze... Slowly I have become mostly human.

It won't be over until tomorrow. And then the memory of this pain will keep me from my friend for another decade or more. Curse you, Vodka, you're just not good for me.