Summer Sanders is going through it. The pressures of school are mounting, and her home life is completely falling apart. Feeling bored and lonely on a Saturday night, she decides to get buzzed and surprise her hookup buddy with her best lingerie. Th...
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AFTER LEAVING SAM'S apartment, we head to Summer's room so she can pack for the trip. It's a quiet journey that isn't even all on me. Summer seems like she has a lot on her mind as well.
That's another thing about us, we both live so much in our heads.
I carry her bag for her and throw it in the back of my truck next to mines. We just need to make a quick stop to my dorm so I can grab the gift I got for Mila before we leave.
I'm still trying to process what happened between me and Sam. I can't believe she thinks our relationship is toxic. When I think of toxic I think of destruction, anger, hate, yelling. Two miserable people who won't admit they're ruining each other's lives. Our experience has been the polar opposite.
Back at the camp when our so called "counselors" used to starve us, humiliate us, and force us to perform back breaking labor day in and day out, we helped each other through it. We helped each other through our addictions and intrusive thoughts. I don't find anything toxic about that.
Something is just off about her. This is the most she's ever been challenged as a mother and I can tell she doesn't know how to process it. I think the best thing I can do right now is give her space and silently support from afar.
She'll be back to normal in a few weeks when the case is resolved and she retains custody, I'm sure of it. She's the perfect mom, no way will she go from a full-time mom to losing custody just because of a deadbeat ex with false claims and a vendetta.
I know Sam, she'll be alright, and I'll be alright because she's alright. It's how things have always been and that's what I'll continue to hold onto no matter what.
"I'll just wait out here." Summer takes a seat on the lounge area couch and focuses her attention on whatever program is playing on the TV.
"Okay, I'll be right back," I say, rushing back to my room.
When I grab a hold of Mila's wrapped dollhouse in my closet, I decide to lay back on my bed for a moment and get myself together before I meet back up with Summer. Just a minute to breath on my own.
I think back to high school me; my hard shell, my confusion about the world and my place in it, my anxiety and terrors— it all used to build up so much and the only way to ease my mind was to get drunk or high. Right now, I wouldn't dream of being either, but I do miss the calm of a buzz. If I could just handle one drink.
I sit back up from the thought and rang my hand through my hair, tugging and pulling to get myself straight, to punish myself for that inkling of a thought.
A drink? A buzz? It's been ages since I had any urge that extreme. My heart starts to speed up and I have to verbally remind myself to breath, to let it go. I have to remember Sam's words, everybody has urges and no matter what you do as an addict, they're going to rise back up from time to time. Having the urge to use is not a defeat, but having the willpower to refrain yourself from those urges is definitely a triumph.
