My wife is an alcoholic. Best person I ever met. She has 600 different smiles. They can light up your life. They can make you laugh out loud, just like that. They can even make you cry, just like that. That’s just with her smiles. You’d have to see her with her kids. You’d have to see how they look at her, when she’s not looking. To think of all the things she lives through, and I couldn’t help her.
Well, it wasn’t. See I love her. And I tried everything, except really listening, really listening, and that’s how I left her alone. I was so ashamed of that, and I couldn’t even tell her. Maybe if I tell her she’d love me anyway.
First time, I’ll get used to it. There was a lot of people there feeling sorry for themselves. It’s like an alcoholic has ruined their lives and they’d rather be a victim than try and fix it.
Okay, when is the next freight train coming through? You got a printed schedule? Cause I could plan around these things, you know, and give you the space so you can, you know, smoke.
Come on, let’s be real. You’re clean. You stay hopeless and confused. Keep polishing those skills. And I’ll take the heat. ‘Cause I got some needs of my own. When I touch my wife, I like it better if her skin doesn’t crawl.
My wife hurts. I need to be able to say ‘What’s wrong, honey? Something I can do? And I love you. So fuck me.’
