Masochist

*This is a free-write exercise. Some of it may make no sense to you, but it's what is going through my head at the moment*

I'm still trying to digest the events of the last few days.

Trying to keep it down and take it all in--like the food I have been unable to eat or sustain nourishment from. It's been permanetly lodged in my throat, making it hard to breath and even harder to think of anything else. It just remains, ever present in my psyche and physical being, and not willing to budge.

I've been told a lot, by many different people. All wanting to weigh in on the "crisis" and give tid-bits of advice to me in my emotional state. I get why people do that--people inherently want to be helpful to people who are in need and want to make things better and easier for those they love--but it doesn't make it any easier to accept. Telling me to move on, forget you, that I can't save you or make you change. To just quit before I get in any deeper involved--that I should be happy I'm finding out about this now and not 6 months from now. To think about myself and not about you.

"Do you  really want to be worrying about this for the rest of your life?"

"He's a fuck-up loser."

"Tell him to go drink himself into an oblivion."

"You deserve so much more."

"It's a disease."

"He's not it for you."

"Just end it and walk away."

"You will always be his babysitter."

"He obviously cares more about that little brown bottle."

"Leave him!"

"Leave him!"

I hear you

I hear you

But it doesn't make it any easier.

I know what I should do, and if the roles were reversed I'd be telling my friend/daughter/sister the same thing. You're looking at the tear-stained cheeks of my face, the stressed-filled eyes and manic appearance I possess and are trying to hold me together. And every single thing you have said is 100% accurate.

But

The heart wants what the heart wants.

And I can't walk away and leave him to struggle with this alone. What would that acheive? Nothing but guilt in my heart and a quicker grave for him. I can't just throw in the towel when things get rough, because that's what everyone else in his life has done and it's what he expects. I could never live with myself if I didn't at least try and help him. Try and get him to come back to reality; away from the dizzying blur of drunken stupors. I see the good in him. I see the man he is and who he could be. And maybe that's stupid; I should see what is right in front of me 95% of the time and forget the illusion. But I know he's in there beneath it all. Beneath the awful demons and load he carries on his back, day in and day out. People will think I'm crazy after all he's put me through. I can't blame them--from an outsiders perpective I'd think the same thing. But I can't do the easier of two options, which walking away would be.

I know what I'm in for. More tears. More heartbreak. More lonely nights of waiting. More stress and worrying. More brawls and pleads to change. More broken promises. More lies and mistrust. More difficult decisions. More lectures from friends. More inner struggles. More pain.

But I have to believe he can come through this. I have to believe he is stronger than this. That there is nothing he can't do if he puts his mind to it and that change is possible. That our love can conquer anything. That I am worth it to him; that he knows he is the cause of my pain and wants to be better. That he wants this to work as much as I do and knows that this is the only way its possible.

I know he loves me.

I know I love him.

I just hope it's enough.