Casual conversation biding the time, creating personas, being other than me. Beer stained breath paving the way. Casual eye contact so much safer than home, until it wasn’t, until it became out of control and something else. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Addicted fairy tales sweeping and gliding, denying and sick. The Four Horsemen graduating from casual acquaintances to more permanent fixtures.
Sixteen years since my last waltz. Five treatment centers, jail, destroyed relationships. I’m one of the lucky ones.
The word casual will always bring me here.