Her name was Amy, she was 18 and I was 21. We met the summer after my Mom died. She had a scholarship to Iowa State for swimming. We didn't have air conditioning, and it was a brutally hot summer. I got sick, and couldn't work; pretty soon I couldn't get off the couch. I had my brother run to the corner and use the payphone to call the ambulance. It turned out I had double pneumonia. They also realized I was drinking a lot and would need help medically to d-tox.
Amy visited me in the hospital. She snuck my kitten in. We made out in my bed. She was beautiful. I felt so alive when I was with her. The kitten got loose and ran down the hall. The nurses laughed.
I got out of the hospital and began drinking again immediately. Amy broke up with me. She said, "I can't be with an alcoholic." I was sad, but I still had the kitten, until it got smashed by a car one sweltering July night. Mom Amy the kitten--all gone. Then, I really started drinking.