Zuckerfrei

I'm home. I may have ingested two sips of Crown Lager but not a drop more. It tasted revolting.

It wasn't much fun. It might have been if not for the fact that we were braving Winter in the backyard with no source of heat other than a small fire which more than sufficiently lit up our faces but left our arses (and the rest) icy.

The drinkers seemed to have gotten a lot more out of tonight. Except one girl who took on Sameer in drinking and ended up half-vomiting half swallowing back vomit, then nearly dipping her head into the fire, then running into the corner of the backyard to vomit again, then having an asthma attack, then lying on the grass sobbing. As far as I know she was still sobbing when we left.

You're probably going to say, "that reminds me of someone". Or you would if you didn't already know that this "someone" has just travelled to Woop Woop and lugged along six bottles of Strongbow to warm her hands by a flame for 3 hours.

I thought you might read this in the morning.

You know babe, we've ignored our problems for too long. Now they're all finally biting us back in the arse. All at once. It'll be hard, making them go away, but I don't worry anymore because there's no point. We've made mistakes, but we're strong. If we want this to work, there's no way it won't.

So here's this. I know it's often hard for us to talk to each other when we're fighting. I know you sometimes don't want to talk, though most of the time I do. I know you need space to think, to figure things out for yourself. I'm writing my mind because I'm different. I can't keep it inside. But this time I don't want to confide in anyone else. This time it's just between you and me.

So you might have figured that I've made you my only reader. Lucky you.

Read it, or don't read it, or read some of it, it doesn't matter. It's in writing. It'll always be here. I can choose when I want to write, and you can choose when and if you want to read. Hopefully this will be a little more comfortable than being dragged into a conversation against your own will, or waiting for you to open up to me.

Is it silly? Well it's 2:00 am. It just might be.

Even though I'm sober. Just a little bit tired.

Sleep well babe. Wake-up call commencing at 6:00 am.