You can’t tell me I’ll get burned when I’m dousing myself in fuel.


“I had a dream about a burning house. You were stuck inside, I couldn’t get you out. I laid beside you and I pulled you close, and the two of us went up in smoke.”

I’ve tried to say it a million times. I’ve tried to write it or capture it in some way that I could look at it when I needed and know that I finally found peace with it or found closure or whatever it is I still need.

I can’t.

And some days, like today, I’m reminded of something and all of the sudden the memory, it’s like a wave. It starts far away in the distance. Small, harmless. I’m sitting on the sand where it’s safe and dry, but I can see it coming. Before I even know how to prepare myself, I feel it. It starts at my toes, washing over me until all of the sounds become muffled and my lungs run out of air. I’m drowning in it. Memories are so powerful. Memories and feelings and memories and feelings. My brain can’t contort it into something it never was, like sometimes we do to ourselves. Remembering wrong, or whatever. That’s impossible. It will always be the same then as it is when it replays over again and again on the screen in my consciousness.

Being in love with an addict is the most pain my body has ever felt. The most tears my eyes have ever cried. The loudest my lungs have ever screamed. Detrimental, entirely.

I couldn’t ever put it into words until I heard this song. There was something about it when we both heard it. It sang the familiar tune of our past life. But today, I finally realized it. I heard the words, not for what she meant them to be, but for how I needed to hear them. The exact depiction of the desperation I felt to save him. The reality that it wasn’t just him he was killing, but it was me too. And I let him. I. Let. Him. And I wouldn’t change that.

It’s coming up on 4 years of seeing him clean and sober and human again, after all the pain and all the memories that haunt me, after all the agony I never knew I could feel…

I’d still go through it again for him. I’d do every second the same as long as it meant that eventually, but eternally, he would be ok. That he would be mine. We made it out together. We are here, now, clawing and digging and fighting our way out of that world and into the clear. I’ll never stop. No matter how high the flames get, no matter how hard the pillars crash around me, I will never stop fighting this fight. Not just for him, but for all of them.

“I’ll stay here with you, until this dream is gone.”





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