365:D154

I have heard of people being in rare form all my life. I believe this is a southern expression that indicates that someone has had way to much to drink or way to much of something and they are acting different. Sometimes funnier than usual or just plan weird. Not their normal way.

I was speaking to a friend about my roommates behavior the night before and said “he was in rare form” and as soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew there was nothing rare about this form. This form has become standard. Every night; loud, aggressive, laughter, yelling, banging on doors. No longer rare. No longer acceptable, no longer safe. I have watched my friend go from being a drunk to being a horrible drunk and there are levels. I have seen him stumbling, falling, black and blue. The next morning, no regrets or what seems like so. He says horrible things, I want to leave, I want to leave so bad! I stay, my payoff, is unclear, there is tragedy, hopelessness and fear. I believe what he says when he is stumbling drunk. Punishment, I believe I somehow need. Vulnerable, uncertain of what to do. A path made of stone to direct me away from this place. Someday, I will see it, hope before it is not to late.