How do I love someone who doesn’t love themselves? Their course of self-destruction paves the way for my own. I don’t know how to love a person through the smokescreen of their addiction, never knowing who I’ll find from one day to the next. I try and brace myself for who I think might be on the other side of that door. Will they be funny and charming or hostile and erratic? Will they hug me with sincerity or walk right past me just looking for a place to crash?
They fervently guard their belongings and question every footstep and car that drives by. When their phone rings they step outside to answer it secretly, returning only to leave suddenly and without explanation. When they do leave, I’m not sure when or if I will see them again.
Days pass and I begin to wonder why there has been no word, no sign of them. I try and read between the lines of their friends, hoping to construct a timeline. I look up the latest arrest warrants through the county sheriff’s department. My heart races as I type in their name praying there will be nothing found, but when I click the button there it is - they’ve been arrested once again. Now the letters and calls begin to come, along with the promises of change. Hinging hope on their word, I rejuvenate my trust in them over and over only to be disenchanted at their apathy and crushed by their lies. I want to keep believing; keep on trusting for the both of us that this addiction can be conquered. If I can keep up the sheer willpower of a better life for them, perhaps with help they will step in, step up and carry it through to the end.
from the book Crack in the Mirror by Mari' Emeraude