I met a guy about two months ago through weird and serendipitous circumstances on my last visit back home to Tucson and he's great in so many ways. We get along really well, have a lot of common interests, his friends and family that I've met so far I like and they like me. It gets cuter: we're both musicians and we make beautiful music together and have played two shows together. I kind of gave up hope on sharing any of my kinky proclivities with new guys I meet so as not to scare them off (electricity, needles, knives), but he's down and even has some kinks of his own that I haven't tried but think I could get into (watersports). I had given up my dream on getting to peg someone that I was really attracted to... and this guy is down... and it's awesome. I really love giving head, and he really loves eating snatch and I never knew 69 to be so good. We're GGG sluts for each other.This is where the sad part comes into play: he's the most severe alcoholic I've ever met. He's really young (22, I'm 25), but he's in so deep with alcoholism that he has the DTs on a regular basis.
The rest of TSO's long letter—and my short response—after the jump.
The first time we had sex he drank nearly half a fifth of Wild Turkey. I told him that I didn't want to have drunk sex for our first time, and he said it was impossible for him not to because he's always drunk. I went ahead and had sex with him anyway because I was horny. Later he mentioned that he can't get off from sex because that's "just the way [he is]." I suggested that maybe it was because he's always drunk when he has sex. His response: "I've had sex sober before..."I live in Portland, he lives in Tucson. Which would make it easier for me to walk away, but part of me really thinks that he's "the one." Which I loathe saying, but it's my gut feeling. But maybe he isn't really not "the one" because I won't do something like, say, bondage play or something really new and edgy when my partner and I are fucked up. And since he's always fucked up, I'd never get the chance to do the fun and nasty things I'd like to try. I tend to do most things sober, not fucked up. And hope that whatever I'm doing stuff with is also sober. I believe there's a time to get fucked up, but it's not all the time.
Sensible me says run, romantic-at-heart me (or is it codependent me?) says, "But he's so perfect EXCEPT for that."
All of the practical stuff is set up where it would be really easy for me to disappear and just not talk to him again, but I feel like there's a tactful way that I can tell him that I can't be in touch with him because he's sick and I don't want to get pulled into that mess. I have a letter ready to send in the mail, but I'm really hesitant to send it off to him because I still enjoy hearing his voice on the phone and getting texts from him. And shit, Thanksgiving is coming up, then his birthday, then Christmas, then New Years all in rapid succession. It's awful timing. I really like him and I really hate that he's a drunk. And I don't know how to bring it up when I talk to him so that this letter that I send him isn't just coming from left field. Any suggestions on how to proceed?
The Soberer One
The "one" is a myth—a destructive myth. Otherwise sensible people will keep seeing someone despite red flags and major damage because, hey, what if turns out that this guy was "the one" and I dumped him just because he had a drinking problem/a drug problem/a lying problem/a Republican problem/a little girls problem. When you find yourself making that kind of rationalization, TSO, remind yourself that there is no "one," singular, there are only guys—numerous guys—who come close enough to your ideal mate that they feel like this mythical "one" you've been lied to about all your life. When you find yourself tempted to overlook, say, a huge drinking problem, that's when you need to remind yourself that there are other "ones," plural, out there. In your case, TSO, there are other hot, fun, sexually adventurous guys out there... you just need to get out there and find one, another one, a different one. And you won't be able to do that if you're pouring all your time and energy into rescuing this fucked up drunk from himself.
He could be a good guy for you, a really good match, if he weren't so fucked up. But he is so fucked up. He's disqualified. And while he may be a hot drunk now, at age 22, have you seen what hardcore alcoholics look like by age 35? You're way too young for this reference, I realize, but Google "Jan Michael Vincent" and then send that letter.
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