This routine played out pretty much nightly. And I was so busy demonizing Kit for his pot dependence that I shrugged off my wine use as the lesser—and certainly the more legal—of two evils. Kit occasionally called me out on the double standard, but for the most part he didn’t judge my drinking. Part of me wished he would express some concern or take more notice, to demonstrate to me that he cared. Because, the fact was, over the course of our relationship I went from hating wine to tolerating wine to liking wine to loving wine to needing wine.
