26October2025
Ive been turning the same thoughts over in my head all day, and writing them down feels like the only way to make sense of the mess.
Do you expect me to chase after you forever? I asked myself, halflaughing, halfcrying. Ive got a whole bunch of people like you, a whole lot of yous stacked on a pennypinch. The image of a tiny pile of pennies felt absurd, but it summed up the feeling of being cheaply interchangeable.
Then buy your own pennypinch and leave me alone, I told the mental echo that kept begging for another chance. Who actually needs you?
Theres that old saying, What a sober person thinks, a drunk person does, and it always haunts me. Growing up in a rough part of East London, with the clatter of cheap pubs spilling over into our cramped flat, my mother would have twisted that proverb into something like, What a sober mind says, a drunken heart does. After a few pints, people arent just speaking their true thoughts; they act in ways that would never surface when theyre clearheaded.
Alcohol, in its way, strips away the internal fences we build. So maybe after a couple of glasses you dont lose yourself; you actually become more of who you are, for better or worse.
Take my father, John. He never hid anything from us, never raised his voice. He drank the same wayquietly, with a measured sipand even in his drunken state he managed to tidy up after himself. When he fell back into his old habit of disappearing for weeks, we learned the signs. Hed head off to his country cottage with a crate of whisky, staying there in a loop of wake up stumble sleep until the week was over. He would come back as if nothing had happened, and the flat would settle back into its usual rhythm.
Across the hallway, the neighbours husband, Peter, prowled the building almost as if he were on a mission. His temper was a storm that often blew over my mothers head, and my mother, with her two little ones, would sometimes drift over to my flat for a breather, sighing about how lucky she was that Peter was usually quiet.
I knew that before John started his drinking again, my mother had been involved with someone else, but shed dumped him because he turned into a different beast when hed had a few drinks. Shed always told me, If a bloke gets sloppy because of the booze, thats not a oneoff thing. Nowadays everyone either drinks, or plays, or is tangled up in some other addiction to cope with stress.
When someone starts behaving badly under the influence, I think you should cut ties immediatelyno second chances, no promises to change. I never gave my father any leeway, and that stance gave me a reputation: a woman who simply cannot tolerate any drunken nonsense.
Even though I occasionally accept a wine or two on a special occasion, the gossip around me ignored that. Dont drink near her, theyd mutter, as if that alone kept the whole house safe. It might be why the third man I datedafter the first two fell apart because of their drunken anticsclaimed he never touched a pint.
On the surface that was brilliant. Id watched my childhood friends stumble through various degrees of tipsy and learned what to expect. Yet, I also wondered whether any man could truly be without his own quirks. Id learn that later, once we lived together and could really see each others habits. If something felt off, I could walk away; nobody was forcing me into a permanent commitment after a single night.
So I could watch, evaluate, and decide in a reallife setting.
And I did. I learned a lot about Nicholas, the new boyfriend, and thought maybe I should have just let him keep drinking.
It all started at a celebration for a successful exam season. I was finishing my final year at university, and Nicholas, whod graduated a year earlier, slipped into the group because he knew a lot of my classmates. Where there were students, there was cheap cider, a scattering of crisps, and ideas that seemed brilliant in the momentlike playing Truth or Dare with a twist.
One of the lads dared me to sing karaoke. He reminded me how I always declined when invited to a karaoke night, even when wed ended up at a tiny bar that didnt even have a proper mic. Ive always looked after you, dear, I thought, but Ive never wanted to let my hair down in front of a crowdexcept maybe on Halloween.
But the dare stuck. I grabbed the mic, managed a single line before the guy snatched it away, shouting, Thats what you get for being a wimp! The room roared, and I felt halfembarrassed, halfdefiant.
Later, a brilliant student named Katie tried to get us all to copy each others notes, offering to hand over my homework. I, stubborn as ever, shuffled back to my room for my own notebook, trying not to look like Id given in.
Someone started dancing awkwardly on the spot, someone else sang offkey, and somewhere the night went off the rails. The worst part was when Nicholas, still completely sober, was pushed into a game where Lucywhos always had a crush on himdemanded he kiss Hannah. Nicholas, with an almost childlike grin, stepped toward the blushing girl and pressed his lips to hers. He kept kissing her, and I watched it, bewildered.
A bottle of sweet, fizzy pop burst open, splashing the kissing pair. I let out a swear word that sounded louder than the music, and I felt an urge to bolt out of the room, into the cold night air. I inhaled the bitter, chilled wind, on the verge of tears, like a small child feeling abandoned.
Just then, Charlies voice rang out, Emily! Wait! as a taxi screeched to a halt nearby. I hopped into the back seat, muttering my home address, clutching my bag, my phone, my cardsanything that would remind me I still owned a piece of the world.
Mom, seeing the distress on my face, didnt pry. She set a cup of hot tea on the kitchen table and sat with me while I sipped, nose crinkling at the steam. Itll all sort itself out, she said, a phrase shed repeated so many times it felt like a mantra. The flour will be milled, the dough will rise. The thought of lifes endless grinding seemed both absurd and comforting.
Im going back home, I told her. Ill collect my things from his flat tomorrow and move out. Is that okay?
She laughed, Why ask permission? Your roofs always been yours. You can come back whenever you like. The spare rooms still there, the furnitures still there, and Ill never try to push you out.
Maybe, if she had shouted at me with a harsh Get out, youre an adult now, live on your own! Id have rushed back to Nicholas, trying to forget the nights chaos. But with my parents quiet support, I felt steadier, ready to stand on my own two feet.
Nicholas greeted me at the door with a lazy, Where have you been all night?
Thats none of your business, I snapped, stepping past him into the bedroom. I began packing methodically, pulling shirts from the wardrobe and stuffing them into a large checkered suitcase. Two suitcases would do; then Id hail a cab and leave the remnants of this illfated romance behind, as if it were a nightmare I could wake from.
Are you trying to run away from me? he shouted, his voice cracking. You just kissed my classmate in front of everyone, and you do it like its nothing! Why should I stay?
My heads full of bugs, I retorted, Its not betrayal. Its just a kiss, a silly task someone set for me. If theyd asked me to sit on someones lap or dance halfnaked, would that be okay?
Youre comparing apples and oranges, he snarled. I didnt get any assignments like that. I did what I was told.
I felt the anger rise, a hot tide, but I reminded myself not to overreact. Fine, then. You think Ill keep running after you? I have plenty of idiots like you to deal with.
Buy your own pennypinch and leave me alone, I shot back, echoing the thought that had haunted me all night.
Who do you even need? he barked.
And yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, I did need somethingsomething real. Six months later Id found a new partner, someone genuinely sensible. Luck seemed to smile on me for the fourth time.
Charlie, now a regular sight on the street, still tries to convince me that I imagined the whole drama, that Im the one who ruined what we had, and that Ill suffer for it. Hes a kind soul, willing to forgive, always ready to take me back.
But who really suffers? Was it foolish of him to kiss another? Theres no excuse. I think I did the right thing by walking away.
The nights chaos still lingers, but writing it down feels like a small step toward untangling it all.
Emily.
