FROM MY DIARY: MY BOYFRIEND, THE ADDICT
I need to laugh right now, even though I feel like crying. You see, the man I love is an addict. Piece by piece, heís breaking my heart. I think this might be over.
For the time being, though, I figure laughter is the best medicine. So Iím trying to focus on the crazy man outside with the abrasive voice, yelling on the phone in a language I canít understand. At the same time, Iím reading these break-up stories on an online support group for damaged relationships, wondering how on earth I got here.
Iím trying to remember the things I'm grateful for, which is hard to do in a time like this. My therapist tells me to do this when I feel down. It helps me shift into a more positive mindset. I need to look at the things I DO have in my life and stop focusing on what I've lost - because I canít stop thinking about Ryan* and about how much I miss the person he used to be.
I feel like I lost him even before the new girl "friend" came along. However, I know sheís only a piece of this crazy puzzle. The old Ryan would never have hurt me that way. He never wouldíve lied to me about seeing her. He never wouldíve blamed me for his own mistakes.
For the past couple months, Iíve had that gut instinct, telling me something wasnít right. I could already feel him starting to slip away, and I keep remembering the person who once loved and adored me, and who thought I was beautiful and amazing. I miss the way he used to hold me, kiss me, talk to me for hours. He said he wanted to be with me forever, and I wanted his face to be the first thing I saw each morning, every day for the rest of my life. I never told him that Ė but I felt it in my heart. He inspired me to be a better person. I miss that man.
When I met him over a year ago, heíd first gotten sober. Gradually, he changed into a brand new person. A light appeared in his eyes; he was truly happy. He went to AA, got a sponsor, and was taking steps toward a brighter future. What went wrong?
It hurts so badly to watch him change. I watch as he stumbles through the darkness of his addiction, sloppy step-by-step, and I canít do a thing. The pain cuts like a knife, but Iím trying not to feel it. Iím trying to be strong. I don't even know him anymore. He can't see the way he hurts me. While he's this way, he can't see anything else. Heís locked in the grip of denial Ė in a world that is cold and black. Until he wants help, he wonít get better, and right now he doesnít believe anything is wrong.
I can't go on this way with him. I love him more than words can say, but I have to love myself enough as well.
I have to realize that the person I'm leaving behind isnít the man I fell in love with. Instead, heís a stranger, and all I have are memories of someone I once loved with all my heart.
I watch him wrestle within his own skin, and wallowing in the pits of self-imposed misery. He can't even see what this does to me. He'll only get better when the pain of staying the same outweighs his fear of change.
Unless heís willing to be honest with himself, heíll never change, and things between us will continue to deteriorate.
As long as heís in this mode, heís capable of anything. He expects my trust without being trustworthy. He expects results and rewards without doing anything to earn them. It isnít realistic, but he canít see that now Ė not the way the old Ryan would. I guess itís impossible to see the entire picture while youíre standing in it.
A part of me still believes in him. He pushed through this before, and he became an amazing person because of it. It's hard to watch something so beautiful waste away before your eyes. Itís even harder to walk away.
Whatever happens, I do believe that everything happens for a reason - even if I can't see what that is right now. One day, maybe I'll understand. And one day - just maybe - the man I love will come back to me.
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