“My heartbreak is no longer because I feel the need to help this person, the feeling is mourning the loss of the sweet man that made me really believe in the magic that is love. “
Have you ever just laid next to your loved one, and wondered how it got here? How has the person that I was once so close with, my other half, my best friend, become so far away? How could this person that was miles from perfect, but absolutely perfect for me, become a person I can’t even stand to be around? I find myself harassed by my thoughts every time I take a breath. All I can hear for miles, are the opinions of people that don’t know him like I do, and for quite sometime I was forced to either block out my own feelings and opinions, keep my mouth shut about what was going on in my life, or lie.
In the beginning, the shame overtook me like a tsunami and I couldn’t even shutter the thought of telling anyone what was happening in my life. The embarrassment pushed me into a space where ignorance was truly bliss. As much as I fought with myself internally, I knew the “ignorance” was never real, I knew what was going on, but I tricked myself into believing that things would change, and that I was crazy whenever I had a skeptical feeling. Honestly, Nancy Drew is my spirit animal, and we all know that she is the master sleuth, investigation and intuition are her strong suits, they are a natural inkling to her, and myself. I wasn’t only lying to others to cover the perfect image that I had created of our relationship, I was lying to myself.
Initially, I honestly believed myself when I said that I was overreacting, and that there is no way that MY guy could possibly be using, “him? drugs? no way he’s better than that!” I pushed it out of my brain because I was in denial, but mostly because as quickly as it was happening, I didn’t want our fairytale to be crumbling before my eyes. He was my dream guy, and at the start of our relationship, picture perfect wasn’t far off, it was my reality. This man, to me, was the most amazing human to walk the earth and I literally felt like the luckiest girl to be with him. He was the kind of guy you brag about, not because you want to make people jealous, but because you have to say it out loud to believe it is real. The man got down on one knee and slow danced with me under the stars while he grilled us dinner the night he asked me to be his girlfriend for goodness sake. But I have learned that nothing lasts forever, and that includes the magic that was our first 5 months of dating.
Almost half a year into our sweet love, he picked up the bad habit of using drugs. Again. At first it was a slow dabble and very random, he would fess up to me as soon as he used, as if it was an accident and he couldn’t believe he had made the mistake. Eventually the dabble turned into a daily occurrence, then a multiple times daily occurrence, quickly, his life began to spin so far out of control he couldn’t even tell his days apart. Drugs took over my love like the zombie virus would a human body. He was not him. Time after time, again and again, he manipulated me into believing that he was okay and that he would stop using. He promised. But many broken promises and even more broken hearts later, I found myself in a tornado of disappointment. Just as I would think my heart was finally healing, he would pull out the rug from under me yet again and I had to start all over again.
Within the past year and a half, if I had a quarter for every time I said the words, ” I’m done” I would be able to drop out of school and survive on my quarters for life. But, just like you don’t get quarters for saying certain words, an addict doesn’t get better because you will them to. I was realizing time and time again that no matter how much I cried, screamed, told him I was done, hated him, tried to walk out on him, nothing I chose to do was ever going to heal his brokenness until he wanted it to be healed.
After months of me begging, he surrendered. He decided to go to treatment, he meant it this time, he was going to get clean and stay clean. While he was in rehab, I was “the best thing to ever happen to him”, I was “the reason he breathed”, and I was “his saving grace.” But I wasn’t, I could never be the person to save him, because that person can only exist inside of himself. He got out and I spent all of my time and energy making sure he was staying with his program. Very similar to babysitting. But just like a 5 year old the moment you look away, they find a way to get themselves into trouble.
Bouncing around from job to job, and house to house, every other day was a different story, but never one that would repeat until he started buying drugs again. That always finds a way to be a constant in his life. Homeless, hungry, alone, nothing that happened to him phased him he still has the desire to use and that desire trumps every other feeling in his body. The drugs become him, he is no longer the man that got down on one knee, he has become a shell of a person. My heartbreak is no longer because I feel the need to help this person, the feeling is mourning the loss of the sweet man that made me really believe in the magic that is love. Before him I never thought this feeling could be attained, it was only something that occurred in movies and not real life. Even though I have lost the person that up to date has proven to be the greatest love of my life, I would have rather loved and lost than never loved at all.