If you go, you and I have a chance to be we again.
If you go, I’ll have to pick up all the dog poop.
I will have to take out the trash.
I will have to sleep alone.
I will have to climb the rickety stairs to get something out of the attic.
I will have to find the fuse box in the dark garage to flip the switch when the toaster and coffee pot suddenly stop working.
I will cheer alone at our son’s sporting events.
I will have to explain to everyone why you are not around.
I will not be able to drink wine anymore.
I will miss you, especially the you I fell in love with before alcohol stole him from me.
I will be relieved.
If you stay, you will kiss me with whiskey on your breath.
You will hide the empty bottles in drawers and corners.
You will fall asleep on the couch while life is swirling around you.
Your son will hear, leave Dad alone honey, he doesn’t feel well.
You will make me promises.
You will break them.
You will lie to me.
You will start arguments about insignificant shit.
You will forget the important stuff.
You will say you need help to take control of your disease.
You will try, but you will let yourself down too.
You will scare me when I can’t get ahold of you.
If you stay, nothing changes.
I will try not to count the beer bottles in the recycling.
I will console you when you cry, but tire of your tears.
I will reassure you that I love you again and again and again and again and you still won’t believe it.
I will lose you, drink by drink by drink.
I will feel alone, even when you’re here.
I will watch the walls between us grow so tall that we can’t see each other anymore.
I will envision a future without you in it.
If you go, you can get the help you need.
You will learn that you are not alone.
You can believe in yourself again.
Your stomach will stop hurting.
Your eyes will be bright.
You will wake up clear-headed.
You will be productive.
You will rediscover joy.
You will feel worthy of love.
You can be yourself again.
If you go, you and I have a chance to be we again.
We can learn to cope with this insidious monster of addiction together.
We will have more good days than bad.
We can forgive each other.
We will be hopeful about the future.
We will have other things to talk about than this.
We can laugh again.
We can have great sex again.
We will be on the same side fighting to save our family.
I don’t want you to be gone.
But I want you to go.
I can’t wait for the man I know to come back.
