My younger sister's addictions came on harder, faster, and stronger than mine. A certain frailty, susceptibility, took over Betty sooner than it took over me. Our common genetic predisposition could have led to my death instead of her suicide, but that's not the way the addiction balls bounced.
We had become too distant, detached. Our addictions kept up apart. I dissolved into mine. She dissolved into hers.
There was no "We" as "She" and "I" dissolved into addiction.
It was distance that kept up apart. Not the distance between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The distance of disease, if you please.
The distance of disease if you don't please.
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 18)
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 18)
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