Step by Step

 

I could just say it I think as I lie there in the pitch-black room, staring at the ceiling, listing to the rumble grumble slumber coming from the pillow next to me. I could just open wide and let the words tumble out. I even tried it, opening and closing my mouth several times, like a fish caught high and dry on the muddy shore, gasping for air. And I realize that is exactly what I am, stuck, and floundering.

I roll over, pull the covers up, and bury my head under my pillow. It works to drown out the snoring, but not the din inside my head. “Tomorrow”, I whisper, “just let me go to sleep tonight, and I’ll start tomorrow, I promise.”

A sliver of sunlight pierced my slumber, and before I even open my eyes, I know I’m going to have to hold up my end of the bargain.

“Fuck” I whisper.

“What’s wrong” comes a concerned voice from downstairs.

Fuck Fuck Fuck! I think

“Honey,” I say out loud, “can you come in here?”

The sweat sprouts from my brow in anticipation of the next words I’m going to say. It’s 64 degrees in the bedroom, but my skin is hot and damp.

I hear footsteps in the hall, then on the stairs. Any moment now. My brain tries to organize my sleepy thoughts, but its no use, everything is still sluggish, thick like molasses. There will be no sugar coating it. Eloquence is not yet awake. I’m just going to have to blurt it out.

My partner steps through the door, he looks more confused than concerned. I take a deep breath, my brain grasping one last time for a way out, but this time my mouth overrides it.

“I have a problem,” I say. My voice is threatening to catch. My brain is threatening me with tears, but I hold them back.

My partner cocks an eyebrow, but otherwise reveals no emotion.

With a sigh of resignation, I reach for the handle to my bedside drawer, and yank it open dramatically. My shame tumbles out into a giant crinkly pile on the floor.

“Wow”, my partner says, stifling a laugh, “that’s an awful lot of candy wrappers.”

I lose the battle with my emotions and feel tears escape, and start to roll down my cheeks.

“Oh no, no, don’t cry, why are you so upset?”

“Because we’re meant to be doing No-Sugar-November. I didn’t even make it a day.”

“Well clearly,” he said, still trying to reign in his giggles, “we’re only five days into the month, but that looks like the remnants of a Halloween size bag of Hershey’s.”

I could feel my lip quivering.

“Wait,” he said, “is that why we ran out of candy so early on Halloween night?”

I nodded

“We had to turn off the porch light and hide from the trick-or-treaters!”

“I know” I wailed.

“Oh, it’s okay honey,” he put his arm around me, “we’ll work though this together, baby steps, we’ll slay those sugar cravings!”