The best relationship I have ever had ended permanently on Sunday. It fucking sucks. After a month of separation we finally called it. The worst thing I’ve ever had to do is end a relationship where I am still very much in love with the person. I thought I was going to marry this woman. I thought we would ride off into the sunset together and share our lives in sober bliss.
It wasn’t meant to be for today.
And it sucks.
And it fucking hurts.
We started off doing what we thought were the right things; openly communicating, started couples counseling right out of the gate, trying our best to trust each other and love each others darkness, but it turns out that love just wasn’t enough.
My alcoholism didn’t let go easily. Problems with jealousy and rage started to creep in despite my best efforts at curbing them through step work and AA meetings. My poor boundaries with my exes started to cause rifts that I didn’t want to see or hear, and by the time I recognized the danger and took steps to help myself, I was losing my soulmate.
It wasn’t for her lack of trying. It wasn’t for her lack of insight. She saw the behaviors, she tried to tell me that the behavior was damaging, but I couldn’t see it in time. By the time I found myself in IOP for the treatment of my underlying depression, which was causing the majority of my relationship problems, she was checking out.
When I found myself in a better place, the disease had spread to the relationship, and there was no going back. The damage was done and I had lost her trust and her desire to stay with me. We had arrived at a point where our needs and desires no longer meshed, and we ended up making the hardest call we’ve ever had to make while sober.
The loss is hitting me hard.
I’ve never had to deal with loss sober. It’s incredibly hard. I spend my days waiting for the good morning text that no longer comes. The “How’s your day going?” message that I had gotten so used to seeing and probably what I miss the most is the “Good night. I love you.” message before bed.
It’s left a hole. I know holes are bad, but my fill was sex and alcohol. What am I doing without those? What am I doing with the loss of the most important person in my life?
I’m moving on. One moment at a time. I’m writing more. I’m working on my photography. I’m reading more, reaching out to old friends, I am taking care of myself physically. I am trusting in my Higher Power to see me through and trusting that his plan will find me in a better place.
I still feel incredibly fucking sad, but I am not drunk and I recently picked up my 18 month chip, and that feels good. I know that the pain will subside in time, but the trick is not to give into to it today. The temptation to drink is not worth throwing away the last 18 months. I know I can get through this. I just have to keep going and not turn back.
I find hope in my reading. I find it in my fellows. There are many people exactly like me going through or having gone through the same loss. They are still here. They are still sober. They are still helping other alcoholics.
Hope is the one thing I have now that I didn’t have a year and a half ago. Hope allows me to know I can get through this loss without destroying myself. Today, just for today I can be okay, and I get through to tomorrow without a drink.
I can make it, because I am worth it.
I have to hope.