I have hope but my heart is breaking

It’s 11:52 and I am alone at the room I rent for dates sometimes.  I left a date a while ago and got french fries and a chocolate shake on my way here.  I needed the cold comfort.  He was drunk.  We’d looked forward to seeing each other all week and he was just.. drunk.

He was good and drunk.  Even in his remorse he wouldn’t actually say that he would try to be a guy who doesn’t drink.  Even then.  He kept telling me he was sorry and understanding if I had to leave.  I broke.  I cried like a wounded animal.  I WAS a wounded animal.

This has been coming for while.  He has a drinking problem.  You aren’t supposed to say that about people.  They are supposed to come to it themselves.  Fuck that.  It’s costing me dearly.  I will fucking call a drunk a drunk.  It’s okay kids.. I am one too.  I’ve been sober for 23 years this month.  I got sober at 16.  I am a drug addict and alcoholic.  The bitter fucking irony of my being involved with someone who has a drinking problem does not escape me.  How fucking awful.  How fucking unfair.  I want more than anything to have the answer and I don’t.

The worst part is I get it.  I’ve been there.   I felt like not drinking would be a death sentence, an end to fun.  I could not imagine a life without it or having fun without it.  What queer ideas of fun we have in our cups.

It kills me.  It kills me that I am utterly and completely unable to stop it or alter it or change it or affect the actions of others.  I’m sitting here, sober, totally able to not drink, and I can’t do it for anyone else.  I can’t give an ultimatum because they don’t work.  I can’t beg or make anyone do anything or share my experience in a way that they’ll even necessarily relate to.

Everything I wanted was mine if I would just not drink.  Everything I wanted would always elude me if I continued to drink.  And I couldn’t imagine a life without drinking and wouldn’t try it until it hurt more than the idea of what a life without alcohol hurt.  I get it.  I totally mother fucking relate and I know the answer and can’t make anyone take it.

I get that not everyone can go to AA.  Not everyone will do AA.  I get it.  But I worry that not taking steps means it’s a ticking clock.  Without AA or counseling or rational recovery or dual diagnosis groups or whatever… without help, most people are not going to be able to give up drinking and be happy.  Oh people can prove they can go long times without drinking, but they often hate it.  It’s not choosing not to drink and then building a life.  I’m not sure when, but it seems inevitable they will drink again and again and again this way.  They will drink away their beautiful homes and their lucrative jobs.  They will drink away their children and their family.  They will drink away their marriages and relationships.  They will drink away mental and physical health.

They will drink away me.  I’m not special.  I know these drinkers have love sometimes, but I also know until they accept they have a problem and decide not to drink, that doesn’t mean much.  They would pour us right down their throat and I can do nothing to stop it.  Right now that’s a bitter bitter pill.

When I think about this.. when I think about not holding him.. not touching him.. not talking to him-

When I think about missing his voice, his smell, his taste-

When I think about the love.. the real and true love that exists between us and the years we could have loving and supporting and exploring and adventuring.. when I think about how fun and amazing and real that is.. I just.. break.

You can’t imagine how much this hurts.  I couldn’t imagine it.  All that time.  All that talk.  All that love and sex and feeling.  All that holding and kissing and support. All that fun.  Everything we build.  All that’s occurs between us.. GOD DAMNIT it’s so fucking painful to see it hanging by this thread.  He seemed to understand it and then suddenly he didn’t.  “I know I can’t do this” turned to “I’ll do what I want and I’m fine and functional, look at me drink!”.  This is the way it works.

I keep saying I wish I could just show others.. with a mind meld or a time machine.  Not drinking is not  death sentence at all.  The best times of my life have been not drinking and I have experienced EVERYTHING not drinking now.  It is by far the most rewarding years of my life. I’ve danced and sang and laughed and traveled.  I have repelled down mountains and from helicopters.  I have camped in the desert and skied in the snow.  I’ve celebrated and relaxed, been to foreign countries and made friends.  I’ve formed life long connections and dealt with the most devastating things without drinking.  I have lived an amazing 23 years without drinking.  I absolutely have the answer and I can’t give it away.

We aren’t over.  I am still here.  I am begging the universe to let us have this one.  Please.. please please don’t let this end like this.  I have hope, but my heart is breaking.


  1. If I were nearby I’d come over to you right now and give you a big hug. And share a tub of ice cream with you as I tell you the tale of the two year relationship I had with a man who couldn’t moderate his booze. It’s tragic, because I loved him. But when he was drunk, the alcohol controlled his actions. And sober, life felt boring for him. It’s a long road. One he may not be ready to walk yet.
    If it can help at all, you are not alone. Big huge hugs atchoo!


  2. You know the answers, since you’ve been sober so long yourself. And I recently had my heart broken by someone who hasnt had a drink in 20 years, yet stopped going to meetings and let his life go and became a dry drunk. And need I point out the hell that is being around someone newly sober? The overall point being – if he is insisting on sabotaging his life, there ain’t shit you can do about it, honey. And he could be doing it whether or not he was actively drinking. And it fucking sucks to have to sit by and witness it, I know. hugs.


  3. I’ll make an exception to my “no hugs” rule and give you a cyber version of it for now. Insecurity sucks big time. Trusting – for then to discover that everything can evaporate, just like that, is NOT fun. I wish I were a Vulcan.


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