This is as real as I get.

4.30.07

Things have not gotten any better with him. Things are getting Progressively worse. This past weekend Saturday he got shit faced and called me a slut. Then he spent the next 20 minutes trying to justify why he came to the conclusion that I was a slut. Then he passed out and pissed in my bed. Lovely. Every time it happens it gets worse and worse.

I have become an enabler. An addict turned enabler. How in the fuck did that happen?

I believe that my suspicions have been confirmed and he does in fact have a drinking problem. He is a pretty good guy sober. Not near as romantic and attentive as I would like.

We argue about his lack of passion and he blames it on the fact that I expect it. Wow. You tell someone what you want and they get mad at you for telling them. Sounds like an excuse to me.

Then he drinks, and for the first bit of it he is ok. Very sweet and loving. Then the more he drinks the more he gets nasty and every time it happens it hurts so much.

I have put this wall up around myself and am isolating myself from a lot of things right now. I am clearing my head and sorting thru this mess of emotions that I have running thru me.

Is this me really being emotionally mature or is this my addictive thinking convincing myself to pull back socially? I don’t know the real answer to that question. I just know that it feels better to take some time to get down to the bottom of my thoughts without distracting myself with the routines of a Monday.

So I have soul searched, I have pondered and moped and ate everything that wasn’t nailed down. I have sat on the couch watching girl TV in my pajamas since I got off work, feigned light conversations with my roommate, her boyfriend and my random phone calls. And I have thought.

I know that I cannot change him. I will never be able to fix him. I can’t stop him from being ugly and mean and passion LESS. I can’t stop his disrespect and I can’t make him care about himself enough to stop drinking. I can’t win his battle with his addiction. Especially if I am the only one fighting the battle.

But I can free myself. I can walk away. And I will hurt. I will miss the companionship of a constant face. I will miss the good times. I will miss the sweet tender kisses when he was in he mood to bestow it upon me. But I will not miss the tears, I will not miss the hurt and I will not miss the anger.