My reflection is dark and difficult to see in my glass. It’s a passionate red mixed with the heaviness of black, of nothingness. Or it’s blood that is bled slowly. Painfully.
I frown, and so does my reflection. This annoys me. What does she have to frown about? I bet her life on the other side of the wine glass is fantastic, I mean, she gets to swim in wine all of the time!
I may sound a little jealous of her, but I’m not. My life isn’t not fantastic, it’s just difficult right now. Wine-glass women probably don’t deal with any of life’s challenges, whereas normal people, like me, do.
I swirl the merlot around and I guess my reflection gets scared by the sudden tsunami because it disappears. Finally, I’m alone at last, lone for the screeching crickets on the other side of my front porch.
My knees begin to pinch so I uncross them from underneath me and rest them on the small foldable side table in front of me. A mosquito must’ve smelled my freshly exposed legs because it immediately begins to fly around them, so I swat it away. I should head back inside soon. First I want to finish my last glass of wine.
I take a meager sip and the bitterness of the fermented juice bites the tip of my tongue. Then I take a gulp and it burns my throat, but not as much as it did with the first glass. Still, I relish the slight pain and the way the wine causes my balance to swirl.
I down the rest of the glass. The rest of the expensive wine is gone at last. Thus, any remnants of him are gone too. I set the glass down on the table, next to my feet. Don’t drunkenly knock it down when I get up, I stress to myself.
Leaning back in my rocking chair, I close my eyes and succumb to the deafening screeching of the crickets. I reflect. I feel good…not great, but good. I feel different than how I was expecting to feel though. I thought that finally being done warranted a celebration, but instead it just feels a little empty. Not necessarily in a bad way. There’s just more room in my heart for other people.
Satisfied with this conclusion of a chapter in my life, I rock forward and pull my feet off of the table, and my feet gracefully knock the wine glass to the ground. Shit.
© 2018 Vic Romero
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
My internship is coming to a close today and I’m already a little sad about it. I wasn’t expecting to be sad because I thought I would dislike it because 1) I’m working with kids, and I don’t particularly like kids and 2) these kids experience things that I have never had to. For example, some of them may be/have been/or will be recruited to join a gang. They may have had personal exposure to violence and drugs. An officer came in to talk to me and the other counselors during our training about how some of them may have tattoos, despite the oldest of them being fourteen. I felt unprepared to handle situations I may encounter with these kids, but instead it’s been great!
I’ve been single for many months. I don’t care to count exactly how long it’s been because it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I’m happy, and I can honestly say I’ve never been happier.
TRIGGER WARNING: suicide
I’ve been training to be a sexual violence response advocate for the past three weeks, and it’s been very difficult. Aside from the material itself being upsetting, the training has triggered unpleasant memories as well. I’ve also had multiple nightmares about being drunk.