Breathing my Mind into Your Face

The family went over to my wife’s best friend’s mom’s house for some pizza and conversation. Wife’s best buddy was in from Colorado with six year old daughter and manfriend. Same manfriend we did a couples trip to Nashville with last May where I made an ass out of myself by falling down in the streets and hitting my face against whatever signage they had sticking out of the sidewalk, then having to be dragged up to my room by my wife. That was one of many similar dipshit occurrences brought on by my inability to temper my intake over the course of my imbibe years. Anyway, we had a lovely evening of pizza, indoor smores, and in-depth conversation about how to live a good life. I had a convo with wife’s best buddy’s mom and boyfriend about my sobriety. I told them I’d been to rehab and was sober for 72 days. Boyfriend asked me what led to me going to rehab so I told him. Before I told him I had this smurf inside me telling me that was likely an overshare, but I told smurfette to simmer down. As I was completing the story of the monday/tuesday vodka bender, mentioning how I’d drunk drove the kids, my wife snuck up on our conversation. So I wound that shit down. I am comfortable with sharing all of me just as I be, but she isn’t. And it isn’t all about me. I could tell she was uncomfortable and that I’d be hearing about that later. Cut to later when we’re getting under the covers and she’s telling me she doesn’t care what I share with my family or friends, but those are her people and they are not to be shared with. She’s right. I could’ve just said that I didn’t want to go into detail about what led to my life reset and that would’ve been just fine. I just really don’t give a fuck what people think though. She does, so respect it when it’s easy to respect.