On Being in Love With an Addict

We made sense together. The downfall of our relationship wasn’t the drugs. It was how the drugs made him act. Our relationship was always complicated, drinking and drugs didn’t help anything. We both had crappy childhoods. We understood each other. I understood why he did the things he did. I tried saving him but I knew it wasn’t going to work. He was going to have to want to get help but I couldn’t keep watching him harm himself. It took me a long time to get over that guilt. I have a lot of regret about how I left the relationship. For a long time I blamed myself. I thought that nothing I do is going to make him get sober. I didn’t understand that it needs to be more than me. He needed to admit that he needs help. I wish being in love was enough. I wish it counted for anything at all. We were both just kids who were forced to grow up quickly.

We both had family members who suffered from addiction, I guess I just got lucky. Even with my family suffering from addiction I didn’t fully know that he was suffering so badly. We were both left alone on our own a lot. It just made sense that teenagers were going to drink But it was much more to it for him. I remember when he told me “I wish I had been able to live my life like a normal kid without shoving copius amounts of weed, alcohol. and various random pills i could find just to stay sane.” I never understood what he meant. He was so scared of turning into his father that he tried everything that he knew his father was using. I on the other hand was so scared of becoming like them. The more he used the more he treated the ones he loved the worst. He was one of the greatest writers I have ever met but man did he have a temper especially when he drinks. I still loved him though, and a part of me still loves him and I think I always will. It was hard watching him go through that. He wasn’t always like this and I wondered why when he knew it was killing him why didn’t he stop or attempt to seek help.

We thought that if we could survive this we would survive anything. I really thought that we could make it. I knew that I couldn’t save him but that doesn’t mean that I was going to stop trying. He was the only person keeping me here but I knew that I couldn’t leave him when he was like this. Everyone around me changed, expect him. Begging him to seek treatment, or even talk to someone wasn’t working. High school wasn’t easy he was the reason I made it. We worked so well together because we came from the same kind of people. We were practically orphans. At that time he was my only family. We both had toxic relationships before but this felt different. We were 16 and basically living together, not like our families noticed or cared. We would spend the weeknights at his place and mine on weekends. I knew that he was using I just didn’t know what and for how long. I didn’t ask either I guess that makes me a shitty person or I was just in denial. At the end he wasn’t the person he used to me and I knew it was in everyones best interest if we weren’t together. We are still friends it’s just different now. There is still so much love there. I wouldn’t be who I am today without him.