Of his birthday celebration went like this:
His dad got paid today and offered to buy beer and food for him to make. Then our mutual friend through a job we both had asked if we were doing anything to celebrate. He told me to invite her and her boyfriend over and, of course, to bring beer. It was actually chilly tonight and awfully windy, but he wanted to make dinner on the new fire pit his dad got for Christmas. After suffering through the cold, we went in and I’m almost positive the only people who ate were my girls and I.
After we ate, he asked me to drive to the gas station and get cigarettes. When I stepped outside, another friend was pulling up. With more beer. We all hung out for a while, his eyes more glassy every minute. I got a call from another friend around eleven; he was headed this way to celebrate. He walked through the door about fifteen minutes later with his new/old girlfriend on his hip and a 12 pack in his hands. Not to mention the 15 pack that he sent me back to the store to get, after convincing his mom to get him some beer…as long as he didn’t drive.
Everyone had left around midnight, save for one straggler who is passed out on the couch. By this time, he was stumbling around and texted me asking to get in the shower with him. I declined. He got upset but went in the shower anyway. After a few minutes, I heard what was clearly someone throwing up. I went in to check on him. He always takes showers with the lights off, it’s so strange. I turned the light on and he was still hurling from what I could hear. I pulled back the curtain to find him sitting down in the shower, half asleep, covered in vomit. The smell (and sight) was absolutely revolting.
I went to the room and grabbed a few towels. I returned to the bathroom and had to slap him fully awake. “Get the fuck up, clean yourself up, and get in bed.”
“I HATE MY LIFE!” I heard him yell as I walked out of the bathroom.
All the sadness I felt last night was gone. He reminded me tonight why I’m leaving.