From the Bottom of a Bottle

“I’m sorry, Aubrey, but I changed my mind.”

The idea painted itself in a mesmerizing scene: A starry night out in the city, the ecstasy of letting that party animal out, and drinking to the highest, inner echelon until I could drink no more. Neon lights and the blaring pulses of the club, getting on the dance floor and not caring about what anybody thinks… The vague memories I made along the way in a boozed-up haze were ones I’d never forget. The prospect itself always sounded like a rush I could never stop sprinting for given the chance. 

Not this time.

“What do you mean, Mia? Come on girl, you haven’t gone out with me in years, and this is the only time I’ve got off work… Everyone else is going to be there, don’t you want to catch up and have a little fun? We'll go to the Rusty Pub, the Lunar Night-lounge, everywhere. Aiden's going to be our designated driver and everything, it’ll be okay.” My friend said over the phone, one who I met back in my junior year of university. My best friend, I once called her, but not so much anymore.

When we ended up in Marketing class of all places, we hit it off. I still remembered how she joined my table at the corner, despite the plenty of open seats, and when she asked my name, I blossomed out from my soft shell. Never did I anticipate someone like her to associate with a wallflower like me, but she helped me become more of a social butterfly. Nearly every day did we catch lunch, study together, even having sleepovers at each other's dorm rooms. The more we spent time with each other, I almost wanted my time at university to never end, but that took off to a wrong turn once she started taking me out, showing me a side of myself I could've never expected. It wasn’t until she brought me out of my way to go out slumming on my 21st did she helped me find a side of me I never knew I had: a more ecstatic, daring part of me that didn’t hide away in the darkest corner to avoid people, one that could be herself without inhibitions. 

The part of me people adored. 

“It’s not that, I just…” I attempted to find the right words.

“It’s a safe part of town, and nobody’s going to make fun of you if you get sick on the patio again, you’ve got nothing to be afraid of.” She attempted to weed out whatever anxious fear I had creeping at the back of my conscience, but she didn’t understand.

The thought of getting drugged or puking my money’s worth out isn’t what made me scared, but the kind of person that comes out when I indulged.

“Couldn't we all do something else?” I offered.

“You know that I've been looking forward to having daiquiris with you all month. Your favorite.” She countered. “When I told you all about it you were excited… What’s the deal now?”

Being able to see my friends from my university days and catching up for old times’ sake, letting myself loose, and boasting a confidence I couldn’t find while sober? That’s what I craved every weekend until it became an every-evening ordeal. The morning hangovers, the jitters, the thirst for a drop of liquor, nearly all became the reason I had to drop out. My grades stooped to the bare minimum of passing, and I barely scathed graduation with a diploma. If that lifestyle of mine dragged on past my school days…

Where would I be now? 

“It’s just not who I am anymore. I’ve changed since we graduated, and I don’t think that this is what I want to go back to…” I trailed off.

“But you were yourself when you were with me.” She stated.

“That wasn’t really me.” 

Whether I got a buzz off, teetering on the scales of tipsy, or blackout drunk that I couldn’t remember the night before, it brought out the worst in me. From the vague glimpses of my memory, I went above and beyond my threshold of tolerance, so much so it nearly poisoned me, body and mind, edging me to the brink of death even. Trying to jump off the patio, starting a fight with the girl who looked at me funny, and trying to run into oncoming traffic to test my indestructible streak… I might’ve gotten out with some scratches and bruises from my stupid stunts, but it could’ve gotten far worse had Aubrey not pulled me out of the mud. Yet despite how many times she’s seen me become the most terrible version of myself, she did what she could to coax that beast inside of me again. 

“Mia, I’ve already got my dress on and everything, and downing Fireball shots isn't going to be the same without you there...” She pressured. 

“Maybe we can reschedule and have fun another time, get dinner, or catch a movie, but I’m not going to some club again.” I firmed, and from the other side of the phone came silence, and the pacing of stiletto heels. 

“Come on, we can get some hot wings and pretzels after. Besides, you were only fun when you went to clubs though, and it was the only way you could’ve talked to people, made everybody laugh. Don’t you want all that again? Is one sip really going to kill you?” She wouldn’t let up.

What’s one sip, right? Maybe add a tall glass of beer after, since that little bit wasn’t satisfying. I’d need more. Make it one shot, two, maybe five to make up for it. I’ve already spent hundreds and ounces, my bank account could’ve handled it just fine… I’m boring, reserved, and distant if I don’t get those doses of liquid courage in my system. Maybe she had a point.

“Aubrey…” 

Or maybe she was the lethal dose I'd been trying to avoid. 

She’s never been the woman I ever wanted to say no to, otherwise she’d explode, make me out to be some kind of unfun killjoy. Disappointing her may have well severed our ties for good, but… I spent years since trying to recover from the self-destruction I paved for myself, and not letting that healing go to waste was better than having her decide if my life support should be cut or not. 

“I’m staying home.” 

Another drag of silence followed, only to be broken by her agitated sigh. “I should’ve figured you’d try to cancel on me, yet again... Hope you enjoy being alone in that apartment of yours.” 

Before I had a chance to answer, she hung up. 

That part of me deep down wanted me to call her again, tell her that I’d end up going just to make her happy, but I couldn’t return to being some people-pleaser, a pushover… Someone that’d say yes to everything, if it’d make them like me, make them my friend… But for every evening I went out, it made me realize that trying to make new connections wasn’t worth losing my liver or my life over. Ever since I stopped going out on a limb to appease people, and be true to myself, I’ve found people my own way. Friends who appreciated me for who I am. 

I didn’t need the validation of a dozen strangers, but instead the care and consideration of those who'd I really call my friends. Those that built me up to my greatest self, without that drop of artificial courage. 

Tossing my phone to the couch, I gazed off to the window again, the dark dusk drowning out the horizon into its evening haze, and the stars that transpired. It’s funny how those little glitters weren't some blurs of ecstasy, but instead better opportunities that awaited for me. From the bottom of a bottle, it's hard to comprehend what better choices I could've made, but I was in too deep to pull myself out. Since the moment I refused to dive any deeper towards the point of no return, nothing's been more vivid, and I didn’t want it any different. 

My future was never more crystal clear. 

***

Mia, where are you? Please pick up. I didn't mean what I said. Answer me, please.

About a week passed since my phone call with Aubrey, and I did my best to distance from her since. Considering the photos she took and posted online the night of, I told myself was doing just fine. But it wasn't until the morning after and thereon did she try to reach out to me, and even prior, did I worry for her well-being. Perhaps the liquor got the better of her feelings, but even then, it was nothing short of manipulation in the making. I knew if I answered her, she'd only repeat history again, tempting me like she did not long ago. Blocking her on my socials upon seeing her stories was my best solution. The only way to extract the venom such as her meant an antidote, and severing our friendship seemed the likely remedy. No matter how much I sought to reach out for her, hoping she was okay, I couldn't bring myself to.

I didn't want to open that door again.

My usual alarm went off, and I went about the routine that had become my staple now that I didn’t have to be cramped in my old college dorm. Catch breakfast in the kitchenette, do the dishes, hop in the shower, and brush my teeth to finish the start to my morning. What’s better is that I didn’t have to wake up to the taste of tequila on my tongue, or try to recollect the fragments of a whole moment that happened the night before. Being able to wake up without the headaches and hangovers? That was only a plus side. 

Having the self-assurance to look forward to my life was the motivation. 

When Saturday dawned, the songbirds outside compelled me to take a walk and appreciate the life I’ve built and continued to expand upon, and today was no different. Right when I was about to get my shoes on and start my day right, a knock clamored from the door. Making my pace over and being light in my feet to not wake the others downstairs, I went for the knob. When I twisted and turned it open, my stomach dropped.

Aubrey stood at the doorway. “Hey...”

After the way she spoke to me last night, slamming the door and separating her from my life would’ve been the called-for reaction… But forgetting the years we spent together might’ve been the worst thing I could do, and I would’ve been no better than her.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked. 

She leaned on the doorway, her face paled and the bags under her eyes accentuated. With her arms crossed, her eyes dropped to the carpet. “I know you probably don’t want to see me, but… I’m sorry.” 

At least she had the decency to apologize, but still, for the sake of my health… I had to leave the door closed on our friendship. “Thanks, Aubrey… Goodbye.” 

When I went shut her away, she prevented that chance from coming any closer to her. “That's not just it… I came here to talk.” 

Despite everything she did to me, and no matter how much she didn't deserve my time or attention anymore, I continued to entertain her. “About what?”

“About the other night… What else?” She mumbled. 

She sought an answer from me, I imagined, so I gave it to her. “There's nothing to talk about. You made yourself clear, and I want nothing to do with you."

Her face only drenched whiter. "M-Mia please, I know what I said... I tried calling you about it."

"Eight times, and a shit ton of texts after, you mean." I wiped my brow. "I don't know what's gotten over you since school, but this isn't the same person I met five years ago. Where do we even stand anymore?"

"You're still my best friend... Aren't you?" She mumbled.

"It's like I don't even know you anymore." I took my stance. "You can live this way all you want, but I'm not letting you drag me down with you. You have to understand I can't relapse again. Not now, not ever. You get that?

“Mia, please, just listen to me for a second.” She panicked.

"Why should I? You didn't bother trying to listen to me just a week ago." I drew a deep exhale. “I'm sorry, but it's probably for the best that we stopped–”

“Something happened to me, Mia.”

I stopped. “What?” 

Inviting her inside, I brought her to the couch. Been a while since we sat down together, not one of us being wasted on the cushions while the other on the floor… This was different. 

“I…” She clasped her mouth, shutting her eyes. “They had to call an ambulance for me.” 

“Jesus, Aubrey.” My breath came to a halt. “What the hell happened to you?” 

A shudder overcame her skin.

“I went too far. I still remember it so vividly… I collapsed on the dance floor, seizing, nearly choking on the drinks I had before… The paramedics had to take me in, and if they hadn’t shown up sooner...” She tried to contain her tears. “They said if I had drunk another ounce, I may as well have gotten into a coma, or worse… But I was so scared, Mia. I was so scared I was going to die… And without telling you sorry.”

“I…” The revelation brought me still, but through the shock, I took her shoulder. “I should've been there for you.”

“No, you shouldn't have. None of this was your fault, Mia…” She took my hand. “Didn’t realize just how much of a shitty friend I was until I nearly killed myself over it. You were right to do what you did…"

"But still, I care about you, even after everything." I assured her.

"I appreciate that, but... Look, I don’t expect you to forgive me completely, or at all, but I wanted to come here to set things straight.” She wiped her cheeks, only to stare at me with genuine eyes. “I was wrong. I should’ve known better than to treat you the way I did, and I have no excuses. I was a terrible friend, and a terrible person, pressuring you all the time… I recognize that now, and I’m owning up to it. If you’ll let me, I’d like to make it right somehow.” 

Confessing her feelings to me, maybe this whole experience brought out a new side of her as well, one that I didn’t get to recognize until she nearly drank herself to death. 

One that I hoped would’ve changed her life for the better too.

“Look, I’m just glad you’re still here, still alive.” I gave her a content smile. “I don't think I could've been who I am without you.”

With that, she brought me in for an embrace, taking me in her arms. In that moment of vulnerability, I took her in, holding her tight and shedding tears of my own. 

“No, that's not true… You're a better person without me, and I don’t want to ruin what good you have.” She told me. 

“You wouldn't. You're still my friend no matter what, Aubrey. My best friend. If you're willing to own up to what you did, then I'm here to help you make it right.”

“Please.” She quivered a soft, healing smile. “I'd like to be a better person too.”

Bringing her face back into view, I saw the same girl that I met back in class, the one who helped me overcome my setbacks and step out of my comfort zone, all before the cocktails. Abandoning Aubrey in her time of need would've been no different than to let herself get eaten away from the inside out. Overcoming my fixation began recognizing it, but I couldn't heal on my lonesome. It takes support from the outside to substantiate the foundation of recovery, and seeing her fragile state, it became clear that she wasn't the poison I accused of tempering my livelihood. No, addiction's a sickness that spreads like any other disease, and not everyone could be cured from it, but it can still be treated with a change of heart. The only way to escape the bottom of the bottle was to reach for the rim, but it takes another to pull from the bleak. Nobody deserved to perish in that deep dark, and I had to help her out.

“You’re already starting to be.”