I’ve been thinking about alcoholism…not just M’s but all of those I have encountered struggling with it…. or not as the case maybe.


It seems there is always a profound loneliness deep inside them. My mother was like that, deeply lonely, sad and abandoned. My friend L is like that.  I think I am beginning to feel it in M despite her cheerful out look.


It’s in the little things she’s told me. It’s between the lines and in the negative spaces. It’s in the words she uses to describe yourself. It’s in how her touch reaches out to me and reaches into me.


And of course a deep profound loneliness is the genesis of my behavior…you can’t smother me, I can never have too much affection. I will reach out and reach out until I have given all of myself away in hopes of getting something back. I’ve learned to avoid that, or at least stop before I have nothing left even for myself.
I suppose where she is an alcoholic I am an affection-holic. 

They say that alcoholics drink to numb the pain. Maybe that is why I don’t drink to excess because often I only hurt worse. I only want arms to curl up in more, hands to gently stroke me more, the warmth of a body against mine and the warmth of a heart against mine more.


The other night she said that she knew if I were there I could heal her. Intellectually I know better. But do you know what? For a split second I felt if I could only just wrap myself around her and hold her, hold her, hold her that maybe, just maybe a tiny bit of that pain would seep out of her.