|BWS Stories - Contest Winners|
Contest Winners - No More -1st Place WINNER of Sue Silverman Writing Contest!
Lynn Obermoeller is an author of articles and essays. Lynn resides in St. Louis,
MO where she is a member of St. Louis Writers Guild and serves as editor of the
electronic newsletter, Here’s News!
No More -1st Place WINNER of Sue Silverman Writing Contest!I woke up when my leg touched something wet, and I ran my hand over the moistened sheet. I sniffed. Urine. I jumped out of the bed and glared at my
boyfriend sprawled across the mattress in his wet underwear. I
staggered to the bathroom mirror and squinted my eyes trying to focus as the
inside of my forehead pounded through my skull. My stomach churned and I wanted
to hug the toilet. My hair was crumpled, my eyes bloodshot, my face pale with
dark circles under my eyes. I leaned against the counter, steadying myself and
stared into the mirror, long and hard. “You, my dear, will never drink
I continued to view the ugly reflection.
“This is it. You
know that, don’t you?”
I answered myself. “Yeah, I know. No more.
Before that evening, I had wanted to find out how to get my
boyfriend to quit drinking or at least how to manage his drinking. I thought
Al-Anon would help me accomplish that task. The program wanted me to focus on
myself. I didn’t quite get it. During the six weeks they recommended I attend
meetings, I figured I’d learn something to control my boyfriend’s drinking.
The program taught me to be honest with myself, and I questioned whether
I too had a problem with alcohol. I decided to experiment and prove I could stop
drinking after I had a slight buzz or after a few glasses of wine. That would
put my mind at ease that I didn’t have an issue with drinking.
boyfriend and I planned a romantic getaway weekend. Upon hearing that our room
came with a complimentary bottle of champagne, I decided after we shared the
champagne I wouldn’t drink anything else for the rest of the evening. After the
champagne, we headed to the nearest lounge and continued drinking. Maybe we had
another bottle of champagne, or three or four. Maybe we drank some wine or hard
liquor. Whatever we downed, it was plenty. Most of that evening is a complete
blur. I can only imagine what fools we looked like on the dance floor and how
obnoxious we both acted. I would like to bury the flashbacks that come to mind.
But I never buried the vow I made to myself. That was 20 years ago. I’m
glad I remembered the next morning what I had been trying to prove. “No More.