Saturday night was the Kenny Chesney concert, roughly one year to the day since the last show in Detroit. 6 months ago all I wanted to do was go tailgate before the show and get sauced. Instead, i’m working tonight (Saturday night) and think bout The Auteur non-stop. This is not a complaint, mind you. Rather, it’s an observation on how much things have changed in the past year.
I’ve been sober for 68 days now and only in a few fleeting moments have I even been tempted to take a drink. I feel better. I’m still losing weight. My relationship with the Auteur has never been better. She tells me that I even look differently now that I’ve stopped drinking. We are madly in love and I’m still learning the parameters if unconditional love and pure happiness.
We have the Depeche Mode concert this Thursday and a surprise birthday party for 1B one week from today. I’m still trying to get my school schedule locked down and finish my necessary paperwork for substitute teaching.
I haven’t mentioned it before – since I haven’t written in so long – but while i was staying with The Auteur earlier this week, she took me to see her old house – the one that her STBX is renting from her. He was out of town this week, so the Auteur was pet sitting for him. It was nice to finally see the place – putting a concrete location to an abstract thought – but it felt like a toxic environment; not unlike going back to the STBX’s house in South Carolina. i felt the need to get out of there as fast as I could.
When I stopped to think about it, it was all pretty surreal. There I was, still technically a married man hanging out with my girlfriend, who herself is still technically a married woman; in a house that she owns but is renting out to her estranged husband. All I could say to The Auteur was: “Imagine if this was the other way around and you were in the STBX’s house in South Carolina. How would you feel?” In the abstract, it all sounds like someone whom i never even imagined I could possibly become,
- Lauren Mayberry: Five reasons to love Depeche Mode (scotsman.com)