The Floor and Everything After

I woke up on the floor. My phone was buzzing somewhere across the room. It was dark. I tried to stand but tripped and fell into the bannister.

"Fuck!" I wanted to say.

"Flgurph..." is what came out.

I could see the light from my phone flashing excitedly on the table. I stumbled over to it.

Marie.

I tried to answer, but my thumbs wouldn't cooperate, and she hung up. It was the fourth missed call.

The world was a shifting, dizzying haze of color and weight, all in the dark.

How the fuck did I end up on the floor?

I remembered. Too much wine, too fast. I called Marie back.

It rang and rang and split my skull open.

"Where the fuck are you?" She asked.

"Hon. Home," was all I could manage to get out.

"What the hell, James?!"

"I'm sorr... I fell sleep."

"Fuck you," she said.

"Honey..." She had already hung up. I looked at the clock. I was supposed to pick her up from work an hour ago.

"Fughxck."

I couldn't understand how I slept so long, or why I had been on the goddamned floor. I kept trying to think about it, but my brain swam in my head and it was no use. I was still drunk. I had to get Marie.

I grabbed my keys off of the table and ran outside. I got in the car, backed out and raced off to her. Now, I know this is how accidents happen. Criminal negligence. I know and I am not condoning it, but as any drunk will tell you in the moment: drinking and driving is easy.

I flew across town. Cars streaked by. Huge orange cones of street lamp light dotted the road. The radio was so loud.

I saw Marie walking down the road with our laundry in hand. She had done it at work. Goddamn it I am a piece of shit. I drove past her to turn around. She glared at me with full arms.

I turned around and rolled up to her. "Hey. Get in," I said through the open window.

"Fuck you."

"Just get the fuck in."

She threw the laundry in through the window, hitting me, causing my foot to hit the gas and I jerked the wheel, bursting off a little to the left. I slammed the brake. "What the hell?!"

"Are you seriously driving drunk?!"

"I was doing fine until you threw the fucking laundry at me!"

She tore open the door and got in. "Don't fucking kill us."

I pulled up to the light. Looked left, right, left again. Used my blinker, and slowly turned. We coasted down the street at a smooth thirty, braking and accelerating completely by the book.

"So, what the fuck happened?" She asked.

"I fell asleep."

"You mean you passed out."

"I guess. I just fell asleep."

"And you didn't hear your phone?"

"It's on vibrate, and it was across the room."

"Then you decided you'd make me happy by driving drunk LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT and telling me to get the fuck in?!"

I didn't know what to say.

We got home and I stumbled out of the car.

"Asshole," Marie said.

I got up to the front door and realizes I had left it open. I went in hoping Marie didn't notice.

She followed me in. "Go to bed."

"Why? I want to be with you."

"No. I don't want to see you."

"I'm sorry hon. It won't hap again."

"No," she said. "I don't want to be near you at all. You're all fucking slurring and drunk. Just get the fuck away from me. Go to fucking bed."

She wouldn't look me in the eyes. That meant she wasn't just pissed off, she was hurt. I was an asshole.

I went to the bedroom, turned out the light, and tried to sleep.

In the dark, with a gut full of cheap wine, I should have passed out immediately. Me eyes were heavy, my body weak, but my heart, my heart and my head were alive and not so well.

I'm such an asshole. She just wanted a ride home from work. She did our laundry. She always does. She probably had a long day, and just wanted to come home and lie down with me, but I decided to get drunk in the middle of the day until I passed out on the fucking floor, not even thinking about driving to get her later. I am a huge, selfish prick.

I lay there, and I just wanted her to know how sorry I was. How much I loved her. How it would never happen again. But I knew I shouldn't go out there. She didn't want to see me. It would only make things worse.

I got up.

Stumbling through the obstacle room, I got up to the door, opened it and found my way to the living room. Marie was on the couch. She looked over at me.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I want to be near you.

She sighed, and slid back against the couch, making room. "Come on."

I walked over and laid down in my lady's arms. She held me.

"This never happens again."

"I know," I said.

"I love you, but I am really, really pissed at you."

"I love you too."

I fell asleep as she watched a show about meth cooks.