Day One: Devastation (August 14th)

There have been many red flags. Even from the very beginning. When you are in love, you find a way to rationalize the flags, make excuses, tell yourself that it's a coincidence, these things won't happen again. We believe the lies, we believe all the words and we give second, third, and in my case, 100 chances. But this was a flag, and a discovery I could not ignore or rationalize in any way. It was in my face.

Every time I pushed, looked for more clues, I discovered more. The all too familiar feeling of the lump in your throat, your stomach dropping, tears welling up and spilling over, makeup cascading down your face. And I would think to myself, "how can I go on and do this again? How can he do this to me?" The emails, the texts, the refusal to be transparent with his doings and the life we were supposed to be building together have culminated to this present. But before he had pulled me in, given me promises and had explanations for every situation. He was determined to change and give me all of himself. Or so he said. I was determined to believe him. It's not his fault he is an alcoholic. He loves me. I love him. What more does one need if we love each other and he wants to change? Promised me he would change?

These were ultimatums, things I previously did not believe in, and he was going to follow through because he did not want to lose me. "I cannot live without you." Those words were my addiction. My drug of choice that I did not want to live without. Much like alcohol to him, I kept my intake, my role, my guilt for doing things I would have never done unless under his influence, a secret.

But change he did not. The only thing that changed was his level of deceit and the length he was willing to go to cover what I have coined as his "double-life."When I saw it, I could no longer rationalize staying with him. It was there staring me in the face. And it was at that moment when the devastation made a home in my heart, wiping out all humanity and hope I ever had left of having a life with him in it.

The devastation has strangled me and I cannot breathe or even begin to bend over and start picking up the pieces of the life I thought we would have. And the pieces of the person I used to be.