I WAS GOING TO STAY by Jennifer Greenhalgh

I was going to stay. I really was. But I can’t stand to be put up against a wall. That crazy woman wanted to play hardball and I definitely won’t be the one crying in the end. Yes, two and a half months is a long period of time, and yes, this place did essentially get me to stop a very destructive pattern of behavior, but come on, to ask me to leave the facility for the weekend? Ridiculous. All because I was caught giving a guy my phone number? Even more ridiculous.

I was accused of flirting and defocusing off of what I’m here for- I’m so insulted. Especially because I wouldn’t even call it flirting. Or defocusing. I’d call it talking to a person. Who happens to be male. And happens to have the bluest eyes that I’ve ever seen. I can’t imagine that would warrant asking me to leave for the weekend though, and now I have to find a fucking place to stay.

I feel like they want me to go stay with him; just another ‘tough love’ tactic to manipulate me to follow their way. It doesn’t feel right to me. And the blue-eyed boy is seeming like a viable option to me now. He told me he was leaving on Friday and had found a room with a guy near the Ihop. I have no idea where the Ihop is. I have no idea about anything in south Florida and this was pretty much the worst non-decision of my lifetime to come here. I say that because I didn’t really participate in the recruitment process. I was forced by the almighty powers of parents in fear coupled with ‘experts’ collecting large sums of money. I guess I can’t really fault them anymore though, I certainly have realized that I’ve completely done this to myself. I was the one who drank to the degree that I did. I knew I passed the point of function; I knew where I was going. I can pretend that I didn’t, but I did. Deep down inside I knew that I was crossing into that abyss where it went from being mental into something physical. I just didn’t care. First I took the drink, then the drink took me. Classic. I needed it. Well, what could I do? I had nothing else. I still don’t, but at least now I have the blue-eyed boy beside me.

I guess my decision to leave was made. I couldn’t go back now. Plus, the blue-eyed boy was putting the pressure on. I had just entered into the vocational aspect of the program, so prior to this incident, I was actively looking for a job. It’s basically been pure hell. I’ve been going to the library each day and putting together my ridiculously doctored resume. I don’t have much, but at least I still have my college degree and I see no reason that I shouldn’t use it. The staff, however, feels very differently. They believe that I need to work at the local CVS or Publix grocery store in order to humble myself, and ultimately never drink again. A long stretch indeed, but an argument I was definitely losing. As was the case with most arguments with these people. The pressure for a CVS interview is this week and I just can’t bring myself to pick up an application. So this was my way out, now I can do what I want. Screw these people and screw CVS- the decision was made, I’m not going back.

It’s been extremely hot here in south Florida, not the optimal weather when you’re running away from your rehab. Today, I had to wait for the bus in the blazing sun with the rest of society’s rejects, carrying everything I own on my back while I situate myself at the rented room with the blue-eyed boy. My backpack must weigh at least 70 pounds. I remember hiking through Europe and my sack was 52 pounds, and this was definitely heavier. This was a far cry from the days of French bread and wine, traveling through the Alps, with my whole life ahead of me. I can’t believe what I’m doing here. It seems like I just woke up from a dream and ended up on the streets of Delray Beach, Florida. Where are my cats? Just a mere 3 months ago, I was living in a one-bedroom apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. I even had a jeep, and a boyfriend. His name was William and he was from Ireland. An aspiring writer who worked carpentry and could make magic with his hands. William told me stories and I believed him; I believed in love and in us. And then it all changed. My demons had come back; I felt them creeping up on me and my urge to drink was returning. I thought love could stop them, but it couldn’t. Nothing was strong enough, I was naïve to the depth of my disorder, and one afternoon, I broke down. I was drunk at his apartment when he came home from work and he wanted nothing further to do with me. I didn’t really blame him, although I wished he would have put up more of a fight for me. He didn’t and I was in rehab within the week.

My intention was for this to be the time that changes my life. I really wanted to show William that I could stop this; I could be the woman that he thought I was, the woman that we created together. And my chance had finally come. It was after about two and a half months of thoroughly following the program that I finally got access to my cell phone and to William’s number. My heart raced as I dialed the number, I couldn’t wait to talk to him and tell him about all these changes that I had made, all the progress. How I no longer hated myself and how I finally found some peace through sobriety. I could finally take him on drives to the country and cook homemade meals fresh from the garden. And how he can rely on me to be the same girl when he came home from work that he left earlier that morning. I was done with all of it. Yes, this was it, the new me. And now we can start our life together. As I listened to the phone ring, my heart began to race. What would I say? So many words running through my head, my nervousness became palpable.

“Jennifer?”

“Yes… William, it’s finally me.”

“Are you alright?”

“I think so, well, now I am. Oh my god, where do I start? I’ve missed you. Well, I guess I can start there. God, I missed you. And I’m sorry, I never…”

“Well, before you finish, I’m sorry too. Jen, so sorry. Listen, there’s no easy way to say this, I’ve met someone… I wasn’t sure how to tell you, and we’re getting married…… hello?”

It was right then that I hung up the phone. Very calmly, very gently. But it felt like my knees were buckling. All that time, all our dreams… and he’s marrying someone else? I guess he really didn’t love me; I was right. Jesus, if I ever wanted a drink it was right at that moment but I didn’t have that option standing in my rehab room. I decided to do the next best thing and went to my notebook and tore out a page. I wrote down my number to give to the blue-eyed boy. I was done with William and ready for the next chapter… God only knows where this one will bring me.