The first installment of my graphic novel.
My relationship with Scotty ended one night at the Monkey Pub. I had gone there with Gina and Scotty. Gina got up to use the restroom and I was left at the table sitting across from Scotty. When we arrived I was in a good mood and happy. As I sat there watching him drink his beer that I knew was going to be the first of many, I thought to myself, “What am I doing? Do I want to spend the rest of my life with an alcoholic?” My answer to myself was, “No!” I looked across at him and said, “I don’t think this is working anymore.”
He asked, “What isn’t working?”
“So just like that it is over?”
There was ranting and raving about how I would regret it, how I would be alone. I reminded him of all the times I talked to him about getting himself help.
When Gina came back to the table I told her we needed to go.
Breaking up with a boyfriend who lives next door is not easy. He flaunted his relationship with Mary in front of me. I ignored it as much as possible. I won’t lie, it did make me a bit jealous. I kept telling myself it was for the best. I knew something bad was coming in the near future. He had begun drinking in the morning and it continued all day.
One Friday night Wally’s band was playing at the Vogue downtown. Gina, Rene, and I decided to go. We dressed up for the occasion and had fun listening to the bands. Scotty showed up and I tried to ignore that he was there. When it came time to go home we got a ride home with Stan in his cab. Scotty joined us and sat next to me. The entire ride home he kept telling me how he was still in love with me. I kept telling him he wasn’t. When we arrived home we all got out of the cab and Stan drove off. Scotty asked me to go home with him. I told him no. I walked into my house and made some tea before going to bed. I saw him sitting on his back porch pouting. I was tempted, but I stayed strong.
The next day I walked into his house. I had something to give to one of his housemates. There Scotty was sitting on the couch next to Mary. He followed me into the kitchen. I looked at him and shook my head. “That is why I did not go home with you last night.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes it does. I am not going through this anymore. I don’t want you to bother me anymore.”
A few weeks later I met Scott at Stan’s birthday party. I came home one evening to find Wally and Scotty in my living room. Wally looked at me and said, “Scott called.” Scotty looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, “Twice.” I looked at them both and thanked them and then went upstairs. I still loved him but I knew he would not change, ever.
Walking away from that relationship was the hardest thing I have ever done. He was on a downhill slide and I did not want to see the crash. A few months later he was dead. What I had been dreading happened a lot sooner than I expected.
I recently spoke with a young man who was going through a similar situation with his wife. She was addicted to heroine. I told him how I had to walk away because people on a downhill slide drag their partners right along with them. A few weeks later he came to me and told me he was moving back home to his home state. He was walking away from his wife whom he loved and her addiction. I told him he has a lot of courage to walk away. It is hard and painful to watch someone you love self destruct in front of your eyes. It takes great strength to do something about an addiction and those who have sone so should be admired. There is nothing to be done if they do not want to get help, all one can do is save themselves.
Thanks to all for their feedback on my memoir. I am hoping to have it finished by March. I am currently looking for a publisher and failing that I will self publish. I will be posting some of my publishing experiences as well here on my blog
The bus driver had pulled into a rest stop in the mountain range that luckily had a small store with food. I spent most of the day reading a book I had bought before I left San Francisco. The young man next to me kept falling asleep and trying to lean his head on my shoulder. I kept pushing him off. I would have asked to move seats, but the bus was full. As one can expect the passengers on the bus were not happy about being stuck for three days. Had our driver put chains on the bus, we would have been in Seattle already. Every once in awhile I got off the bus to stretch my legs and get some food.
After three very long days we were able to get back on the road again. In Seattle I got off the bus and was excited to be back. A man came up to me and said, “Did you see that poor woman who had to deal with the guy constantly trying to lay his head on her shoulder? What a jerk!” I replied, “Yeah, that was awful.” Gina came and picked me up at the bus station. I would stay with her for about a week. That night we went to the airport to pick up Elizabeth, also returning from San Francisco. She had lived in San Francisco at one time and told Gina and I about her ex boyfriend who use to beat her with a baseball bat. I had never known this about her before. She had married our friend Travis and always seemed happy go lucky. One would never believe she could have suffered the kind of abuse she was telling us about and be so upbeat all of the time. I was glad she was now with Travis, who was peaceful and kind.
I called Scotty a few days after I had been back. I was nervous about speaking with him as he was angry with me that I left several months before. He wanted to meet me to play some pool in Pioneer Square. At first he acted aloof. He was still angry at me. He warmed up after a while and we were friends again. I let him beat me at pool. I was a better pool player than he, but I knew better than to slaughter his ego. Over the next several weeks we saw each other and began dating again.
Scotty’s best friend Wally met us at the Comet Tavern. We sat at one of the long tables and talked about music. Their band Wally World had recorded several songs which Scotty had on a tape. He and Wally began talking about how they should try to put a record out. Wally agreed, and the conversation ended their. I had heard this talk of putting a record out several times. They talked about it, but did nothing towards actually having it done. I thought maybe it was fear of failure holding them back. It is a bit terrifying to go after what you want. You might fail, or you might actually get it, And then what? I looked at the two of them sitting across the table from me. “Why don’t you put out a record yourselves,” I suggested. I told them I would help them figure out how to get such a thing done. We sat and discussed how we might do such a thing and after a few hours Estate Records became a reality.
I stood in the doorway staring at him in shock. I had not told very many people where I was living, which is why I was so surprised to see him. After letting him inside he told me that he had done some digging and found out my address from someone I had written. He was on vacation and wanted someone to show him around town. I told him of my troubles finding work. We made a deal that I would show him all of the sites he wanted to see and he would buy my meals. After talking for a while and catching up we walked out the door and up two blocks to Haight street. I took him a couple of blocks down Haight to an Ethiopian restaurant where we had lunch. The rest of the afternoon we walked up and down Haight street exploring all of the interesting shops. The rest of the week we went to see L7 play live at a club nearby, we went dancing at a venue that played World Music, went to hole in the wall restaurants and ate fantastic food and explored San Francisco. It was one of the best weeks I have ever had. So I was extremely sad when he left to go back to Seattle.
I kept up my job search and finally got a job at a bed and breakfast in Japan Town. I enjoyed working the front desk and greeting the guests. And just when it looked like things might work out for a while, my housemates said they were going to move so I would have to find a place. I was drained of money by that time and even with a job, there was no way I could get a place on my own. I decided to work until I had to be out of the flat. The day i packed up my belongings to take a bus back to Seattle, my friend Elizabeth called to tell me she was in town and wanted to see me. I told her i was on my way out the door to catch a bus back north. We agreed to get together once we were both back in Seattle. Some of Rhonda’s friends gave me a ride to the bus station and I boarded a Greyhound bus.
The bus ride back to Seattle was anything but smooth. We had to change buses in Sacramento and in the bus station a man began to say sexually explicit things to me. Some men noticed and one of them told him to leave me alone that he was my boyfriend. He got rid of that guy, but he did not turn out to be much better. I thanked him and after boarding the bus I took a seat by the window. He sat down in the seat next to me. At first I did not think much of it. The bus left the station and things went well until we were in the Siskiyou Mountains. Our bus driver was an elderly man and he had not put chains on the bus and we were stuck in the snow on the mountain for 3 days.
I could feel my face turning red in embarrassment. I didn’t know what to say and felt awkward. I looked at him to see how angry he was with me. He laughed and said he thought it was funny. I remembered where we had seen each other before now. I told him I remembered him coming into the doctor’s office where I worked with Kurt. After taking a sip of beer from the bottle in his hand he excitedly told me about a new album they had coming out called Nevermind. We continued talking for a while and then I returned to my friends.
Looking around my living room I decided I was tired of everything. I began placing items in boxes. I did not know where I would move to, but I knew I needed to move. I called my friend Rhonda in San Francisco who said I could stay with her for a while. After all of my belongings were packed and put in storage, I boarded a train for California.
Rhonda lived in the Western Addition a couple of blocks from Haight Street. Her flat she shared with two other friends was in an old Victorian house in the middle of the block. I loved the location as I could walk to Golden Gate Park, Haight Street and the Castro. I began looking for work, with no luck. I was either over qualified or under qualified. Each and every day I got up and spent the entire day looking for work. My money was running out and I did not know what I would do. I had never had trouble finding work before. i looked in the paper, I went to employment agencies and I walked around inquiring at shops. One morning the stress got to me. I decided I was not going out that day. I was depressed and had no one who could help me. I spent the morning wallowing in self pity. In the middle of my tragic morning there was a knock at the door. Wiping the tears off my cheeks I got up and went to answer the door. I opened the door and my friend Charlie from Seattle was standing there.