She Talks to Angels

I love this song, and I keep having the good fortune of hearing it in the car, which is especially welcome at the moment when I'm in between books on CD:

She never mentions the word addiction
In certain company
Yes, she'll tell you she's an orphan
After you meet her family

Speaking of addiction, I had a big realization in that department this week. As I've talked about many times, there is alcoholism in both sides of my family, so I've tried to learn as much as I can and stay on top of my own drinking so it doesn't become problematic. I also know I'm not an alcoholic. I once talked to a friend who is and she explained that having one drink was never enough for her, she always wanted more. I didn't understand this -- but what if you're full, or tired, or don't feel like it, or have to get up early the next day? Doesn't matter, she told me, but I really never got it. Until now.

I was warned a few months back about reestablishing contact with the New Englander, that it would be a slippery slope for both of us. I didn't listen, though, because I had all these new insights from writing my memoir that I wanted to share with him. And I did gain some information from connecting with him again, no question about that. But that information -- even when it was the fact that I'm not drawn to who he is now so much as who he was when we were first together - did not stop me from wanting more, in the same way that nothing stopped my friend from wanting another drink.

So I texted more, I let myself think about how to properly acknowledge his birthday, and all the while, I reassured myself in a way that I now find curious as a justification for this behavior: I just love him so much.

Whoopdeedoo Sarah Jane. That's no big realization. The realization I have about it now is that is only half of the equation. And that, coupled with the knowledge that when it comes to him I cannot, in fact, have just one "drink" -- well, that helps me come from a whole different place about how to move forward. And move on. Finally.

Sing it Black Crowes:

She paints her eyes as black as night now
She pulls those shades down tight
Oh yeah, there's a smile when the pain comes
The pain gonna make everything alright
Alright, yeah heah

She talks to angels
Says they call her out by her name
Oh, yeah, heah, angels
Call her out by her name
Oh, ooh, oh, oh, angels
They call her out by her name

Oh, oh, oh, she talks to angels
They call her out
Yeah, ee, eah, eah, eah, eah
Call her out
Don't you know that they
Call her out by her name?