Lui started work this morning, and so decided that Saturday night was his last night of freedom, and that he wanted to celebrate it by joining the Century Club. Since it was last-minute, we ended up with a small gathering: Lui, my brother Joey, Joey's friend Keri, Keri's mom (yes, she's one of those moms who got divorced and decided to reclaim her lost youth), Irish, and me. And only four of the six were playing, and it was pathetic: Keri got to 20 then gave up, Lui got to 28 then puked, Keri's mom got to 33 then gave up, and Joey got to 50 then puked. Thus we can conclude that women are smarter than men.
In the meantime, Irish and I drank our own beverages at our own pace, and sat on the floor, the barstools, the couch, talking, mostly about his ex. (Is "ex" the right term if she died? It seems so negative...) He told me how he's spent the last six months in a grief-and-alcohol-induced haze (I feel like he's got a bunch in common with Sunshine's dad in that respect), how he always has a bottle in his car, how he filled one of his punching bags with gravel and broken concrete and hits it till he bleeds, how he won't go to grief counseling because that would be to show weakness, how he'll never get over her...
"Do you usually talk to people?" I asked him.
"No, never. But for some reason, it's different with you."
So I believe very strongly that everything in life has a meaning - everyone you meet, every decision you make, is all going to play out to some greater purpose. It's why when I first met Irish, my reaction was, "So this is the guy I'm going to cheat on my husband with..." I was pretty far off with that one, but I do believe that I started working at the store, that Irish asked me to come out that first night, that I asked him out last week, all for this reason of being able to help him. That I was sent to him for that - I know how frickin' weird that sounds.
He started showing me her old myspace profile, showing me the pictures, repeating, "That's her... That's my girl... That's her..." It may have been one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life. I put my arms around him while he stared at the screen, and held on tight for a minute before offering to show him my own ridiculous myspace pictures to take his mind off it.
When everyone finally left at like 4 a.m. (I had work at 10; yesterday was pretty miserable because of it), I walked him out onto the porch. And as soon as the door was closed, we sort of fell into a hug.
"I'll try to drink less," he said into my ear. I hadn't asked.
"You know if you ever need anything, I'm here," I offered back.
"I know. Thank you."
Today at work, one of the guys asked us if we'd been friends before I started at the store. To be honest, I'm a little overwhelmed. But in a really good way, because I really think I can make a difference.
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