HEALED HEART

It's easy to get drunk

KRISTEN JORDAN

My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I weaved through the chaotic labyrinth of New York City's bustling streets. Horns blared and sirens wailed in the distance, yet they seemed distant and insignificant compared to the turmoil swirling within my mind.

It felt like me against the world.

The vivid memory of what my eyes had just seen haunted my thoughts. It kept on replaying over and over, like a macabre merry-go-round, tearing at my soul with each vicious rotation.

In my mind, Michael wouldn't stop drilling her; she wouldn't stop moaning for more…

All in our matrimonial bed!

Gadzooks!

As I drove, my phone continued to ring incessantly, the sound jarring and intrusive amidst the chaos. I briefly glanced at the screen, recognizing my ex best friend's name flashing in bold letters. Fueled by my rage, I dismissed the call with a swipe of my finger, silencing the shrill interruption of my thoughts.

She had no right to call me. I didn't give a f**k what she had to say! She could have Michael all to herself, for as long as his d**k satisfied her. I was done with that prison called marriage.

As my gaze fixated on the road ahead, my mind filled with a maelstrom of emotions, a tempest of betrayal, anger, and aching sorrow. In my rearview mirror, the reflection of flashing police lights momentarily distracted me, causing me to veer dangerously close to a yellow taxi, narrowly avoiding a collision.

With trembling hands, I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white under the strain. The reckless disregard for traffic signs and regulations mirrored the chaos consuming my very being. Even though I knew there was no escaping it, I cared little for the consequences that my actions will bring, driven solely by the turmoil that held me captive.

The familiar skyline of New York City blurred as my speeding car navigated the labyrinthine streets. It was as if the city itself reflected my inner turmoil, a turbulent metropolis mirroring the shattered fragments of my life.

Finally, my aimless driving guided me to a quaint Italian restaurant nestled amidst the bustling chaos. I parked my car haphazardly, not caring that I blocked another vehicle, and stumbled out onto the crowded sidewalk. The noise of the city seemed to swallow me, drowning out my thoughts for a brief moment.

Entering the restaurant, I have sought solace in its dimly lit interior. The cacophony of voices and clinking glasses mingled together, creating a symphony that matched my tumultuous emotions. I made my way to the counter, seeking an anchor to hold onto amidst the storm raging within my soul.

Slumping onto a barstool, I placed myself facing the bartender, who regarded me with a mix of curiosity and concern. My voice was cracked with sorrow and anger as I demanded, "Whiskey. Strong, and keep it coming."

The bartender, probably well-versed in observing shattered souls seeking refuge in alcohol, hesitated for a moment before proceeding to pour me a generous glass nonetheless. I grabbed the glass, my trembling hand betraying my fierce determination to drown my pain in amber flames.

Glass after glass, I drank, the whiskey sliding down my throat like liquid fire. With each sip, my anger grew, fueled by every betrayal, every lie, every moment of shattered trust. But instead of numbing my pain, the alcohol stoked the fires of my fury, amplifying the tempest within me.

Voices around me became a blur, their conversations meshing into an indistinct cacophony of background noise. The world narrowed down to the smoky scent of whiskey and the relentless echo of my tumultuous thoughts.

As the whiskey coursed through my veins, my mind wouldn't stop fixing its gaze at Maryln and Michael. Rage burned like molten lava, scorching away the remnants of my former self. Every sip brought me ever more closer to a precipice, where my anger catapulted into a force of nature neither where neither of them could anticipate.

I took another sip of my drink, relishing the burn of the whiskey as it slid down my throat. Even though it was going to be short-lived, the dimly lit bar provided me a refuge from the chaos of my life, offering a temporary escape from the heavy burden I carried. As I sat there lost in mythoughts, a small tear finally showing up, my phone suddenly buzzed on the counter, interrupting my momentary solace.

With a slight frown, I picked up my phone, noting the unknown number flashing on the screen. I hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in my eyes, before answering the call. A voice on the other end explained that the surprise gift for Michael, planned for our anniversary, was en route to our house.

“We called to verify your presence at home, just as we agreed,” he added.

A bitter taste filled my mouth, the reminder of how our anniversary was meant to pan out. Memories of happier times mingled with the harsh reality of our now shattered union. I found myself unable to bear the charade any longer. "There is no anniversary," I declared, my voice laced with a mix of disappointment and resignation.

Silence hung heavily on the line as the person on the other end struggled to comprehend my words.

“What are you talking about, ma'am?,” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to make a decisive declaration. "Give the gifts to someone who deserves it," I said, my voice firm but tinged with sorrow. The words lingered in the air momentarily before I abruptly disconnected the call, clicking off my phone.

My heart pounding, I scanned the place, my eyes landing on a man making his way toward me from across the other end of the bar. He wore an expensive suit, a deceptive veneer of charm plastered on his face. I quickly recognized him as one of Michael's acquaintances, a person I had learned not to trust.

As he approached with a disarming smile, my weariness hardened into defiance. I refused to let anyone further deceive me. Rising from my bar stool, I walked past him without so much as a glance, dismissing his attempts to engage me in casual conversation.

Outside the bar, I paused, the cool night air brushing against my flushed cheeks. It was already getting dark, yet, I had failed to realize it.

Sorrow can keep us locked up for long without knowing.

Thoughts of Michael and our once beautiful relationship swirled through my mind AGAIN. Anguish and anger battled inside me, tears threatening to spill from my eyes the second time. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a spark of determination ignited within me.

With newfound strength, I straightened my shoulders, steeling myself for the challenges that lay ahead. I would no longer be a pawn in a game orchestrated by others. It was time for me to take control, to reclaim my life free from the clutches of an oppressive existence.

As I walked away from the bar, leaving behind the faint echoes of a broken past, my path became uncertain but filled with possibilities. The abandoned surprise gift lay forgotten amidst my shattered dreams, a relic of a life I had now outgrown. And with each purposeful step I took, I embraced the unknown, a resilient force ready to face whatever lay ahead, determined to carve my own destiny amidst the shadows of Michael.

He has now become a lost cause.