It’s time to heal wounds. Time does some of that for you. Wounds of the heart, they get scabbed over but they can be infected and take a lot of time to heal. Sadly, some people die from their heart infections. I just have a little scar tissue. It’s time to actually accept that wound and learn from it. So this blog may be unfit for global broadcast, but I’m not a fan of convention or Emily Post. Gossip, share, or blast back if you desire.

I’m going to vent on the damage the alcoholic lover can cause. Especially when you think you found everything you ever dreamed of when you met him. Lesson 1: their battles aren’t my battles and therefore I can’t win or lose them. Addiction makes those who love an addict feel like the most unworthy and unsuccessful individuals on the damn planet. When you love an addict, you are never first place and your relationship will never mean as much as the substance. Everything unravels and you fight for the person you love. And pray. And know you can’t win. For a long time, I thought that was me failing. I got fat. I knew you cheated. More than once. [I’m not violent but that one night I found out you had cheated and I damn near killed you with my bare hands, remember it? Well that was kinda powerful and healing. It was a turning point for sure.] And I am such a strong-headed fighter that I thought there was still hope. When we were over, I didn’t want it to be through. And even when I knew it was unhealthy and we weren’t even safe or happy around each other, I thought fate would step in at some point. And then, my life went on and it was suddenly happier than it had been with you. But there you were in the shadows. I was confused on how something can feel so perfect and end up so wrong. That’s the part that took some time and perspective.

Lesson 2 was a long time coming: loving an addict is almost like an addiction itself. It harms oneself and it’s a dead end road. They actually call it co-dependency. It’s a misleading term so google it if you really wanna know. It’s very hard to accept that the wonderful times when the drug was out of the picture are forever gone. Hanging on to the person you know is underneath an addition is a slippery slope. You just want what he was before it got of control to come back. Looking back in hindsight, even if you ever cleaned up it wouldn’t have been the happily ever after it started out as. But love makes you fight for the days of smiles and laughter and happiness. Those days are wispy little bastards with someone not addicted; they’re rare as unicorns once addiction takes over.

You stripped my soul to the bones but what replaced it was more beautiful than ever before. Some of that is because of the treacherous hell you put me through in loving you. I came out of that shit like a phoenix. You had all the power but letting you go and putting me back together (for a second time in this lifetime) made me thank you. Thank you for letting me know that I can indeed see my future and everything I ever wanted when I look at someone and love them. But if they can’t fight their inner demons, those demons dance and trample the light inside someone. And it’s so nice to know you’re passed out on her floor tonight and not mine. In fact, at times, that’s the reality I need to smile and realize everything happens for a reason. Best wishes in all your endeavors. And, let’s just go to front street, I completely feel sorry for the daddy issues your little girl is going to have and I may start a therapy fund. She deserves more than you can give. I’m angry for giving you my love and hope. And time. All I can assume is that I was at the place I needed to be, when I needed to be there, and we took from it whatever there was to take. Mainly, I learned that love doesn’t mean the same thing to an addict. And at some point, someone who doesn’t want help isn’t going to get it.

But mostly what I learned is that I can stand by but I can’t fight your war. It showed me letting someone be free to be what it is they want to be is paramount. And if you aren’t included, well, there’s no changing that reality. And you can’t let your own hope for light dim when you aren’t in the war. It’s not your war, it’s their own. The shredded up version of love is not a lesson in love, it was a lesson in addiction and the damage it can cause everyone. But love? No, that’s not a lesson in love except to know it has limits. I love you but I can’t let you have my light. And I can’t take your addictions as life lessons of my own except to know when to say goodbye; and if self-preservation becomes an issue? It’s not love. Get the hell out. That had nothing to do with me except the fact I stayed and thought it was worth fighting for. And, now I know I can choke a grown man out if I should ever need to but fact is, if I make better choices I won’t have to. It’s an option if things go all Sons of Anarchy here at the beach 😉

In conclusion, that part of my life is being closed. I got out of it what I needed. Some of me hardened now beyond what I wish was the case but I see now there’s room for light to come in and melt that misplaced anger. I’m just gonna stay away from naturally born assholes who feel the need to carry out their father’s legacy from generation to generation along with the addictions. There’s nothing for me to be sad or angry about that when it comes to me. I’m sorry you’re a clueless fuck is really all I have to say about that. And to anyone who feels they were in that crossfire? NO, you were part of the healing and I was just scared and mistrusting. But I think you know that if you really thought about it.

This blog seems healing. And a year in the making. I’ve got at least three other people in my life fighting addictions. And I can love you, but I can’t sink with you. If you want a hand to help you up, I’ll be there. I’m just not going down into the pit with you. I’ll always lean over the side and talk to you through the battle your demons. I have hope for you, but I can’t save your soul no matter how hard I try or what songs may imply otherwise. …***To be continued***