Imagine how devastated I was to open up his journal after his passing and finding this last entry. I couldn't respond. I wish I had read it and could have told him to hold on. I wish I could have told him that our love was not faithless and "divorced" was something we would never be.
Then again I did not give him much faith, when out of my own rage, made him believe we could possibly be done, and throwing divorce in his face out of anger, even though I didn't actually mean the words. I cast him out, just 13 days later from the date of this letter, his own silent torment. I could not bring myself to watch as he would throw away everything we had worked so hard for, to be for nothing, on a relapse. I didn't give him enough to believe with and hold onto. I just held onto my own hope that he would see. That he would know that I would never truly turn my back on him.
I just wanted him to understand I was serious about his sobriety, but it was not MY sobriety to manage. Tough love... What a joke! Ultimatums are not the answer. Telling him to choose between me or his drugs, his family or his drugs! It's not that simple, no matter what we think we might know. We don't understand.
We should have gotten help, we should have been honest with the counselor and opened up about the battles--his with addiction, and mine being married to someone with addiction. Instead I was left with a letter, a journal entry. I was too wrapped up in my own pain to see his was destroying him. I knew he was hurting and I was too. But, I didn't have to fight against an addiction in the middle of this nightmare we found ourselves in...
Who knew that 18 days later this would be the letter that prophesied his death?
Tuesday
March 08,
2016
New beginnings and fresh starts rarely leave suicide notes detailing broken hearts. It seems behind is the only place to leave the past if a future life is intended to last. For rear view mirrors you have no need. Why ever look back once you have taken the lead. Always remember that in reverse, back is the only direction to go and who buys tickets and travels just to miss the show? Granted that no one can foretell what their new future holds. It just seems unbeneficial to those who ask to be dealt in their folds. Almost certain that new lives are only sought after old ones burn and yet still for it will always be these new lives are only sought after old ones burn yet still for it will always be these lives we wish to return. So does it matter if new beginnings are sought or forced maybe if these beginnings solely stem from faithless love divorced. Either which way fresh starts can be a blessing or a curse. I imagine that they can be both always ending with the same slow ride in the back of a hearse. With such calming realities of an equal end across the board. It seems rather difficult to justify anyone's painful memory hoard. But without the memories of left lives before how is it possible to ever feel secure with the decision to close the door. Guess I'll soon know and see, I wonder what I'll allow this next life to be.
- Brian Wright
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