... And I still struggle ...

This is going to be one of those really personal posts.  Sorry.

I can't believe it's been 3 years since I've seen my ex.  Thinking back to my last encounter with him, and how deliberately hurtful we were to eachother, just breaks my heart.  I started thinking about how much I loved him for so many years, and how I'll never find that again.

Then I thought to myself ... find what? 

What did I really have?

Can an alcoholic love another person when they can't even love themselves? 

And now here I am ... years later ... afraid to try to have a relationship with someone.  I hide behind the "I don't want to" excuse, but is that really true?  I think it has much more to do with that ... I don't know how to.  I knew exactly what my role was in the alcoholic relationship.  Over the years, I became a damn good enabler.  I knew what I faced every day.  He had no opinions unless what was happening at the moment was hampering his drinking.  He had no concept of hurting someone else's feelings, so I either fought to make him understand, or didn't bother and just let it be.  He wouldn't tell me how much I meant to him, but wouldn't hesitate to tell me how he felt about something I didn't do.  I was the one that made sure the bills were paid.  After we split up the first time, he called me asking me how to write a check.  That year, as he was filling out his taxes on the last day (for the first time in his life), he called me ... repeatedly ... at all hours ... in all conditions of drunkeness ... to get me to give him my social security number because he "needed" it to file his taxes ... with the IRS ... as if they don't have mine or something.  His kids were treated like they walked on water when they came around.  My son ... was treated like shit and held to a different standard.  And this is something I will forever harbor guilt for.  We couldn't go anywhere unless he had beer with him.  If we went for a ride in the mountains, the small cooler full of beer was between the seats, and there was always an open beer between his legs while he was driving.  If the ride took more than like 3 hours, he was drunk by the time we got there.  He would insist on driving, and if I resisted, there was always a scene.  After we got home, he would not bother cleaning out the truck, so the next morning when I went to work, the truck would smell like stale yeast.  I don't know if I could explain the smell to any of you, but I remember it like it was yesterday.  He smoked like a chimney (and so did I for many years), and he smoked pot from the time he woke up till the time he went to bed.  Every morning when he woke up, he would very obnoxiously cough and cough and cough until, finally, he would puke.  He would then make a cup of coffee or two, drink those down, and crack open a beer.  Didn't matter if it was 9:00 a.m. or noon.  That was the routine.  And he was high on pot by the time he did it.  Every day.  Yes, every day.  His entire day consisted of drinking.  Didn't matter if he had to work.  If he bothered to show up, he'd show up with beer in his little cooler, pour it into his coffee cup, and drink all day.  Often times, he was drunk by the time he got home from work, but yet he'd go to the bar, and I wouldn't know when he was coming home, or what mood he'd be in when he got there.  He would either then spend the night watching t.v. and drinking and go to bed hammered, or we'd fight, he'd drink more and go to bed hammered.

What is my point of this?  I don't know.  What do I have to offer another person in the way of a relationship?  Yeah, not much.  I have become pretty callous to a lot of things over the years.  I am very uncomfortable telling someone else how I feel, and when someone compliments me or anything even close, it makes me squirm.  What would I do with a guy who didn't need fixing, or didn't need someone to pick up the pieces around him on a daily basis?  What would it actually be like to make love to someone stone cold sober because you actually love the person?  I wouldn't have a clue.

I went out with my very good friends last night.  They have been married for many years.  As I was "singing" karaoke with the host (yeah ... shut up), I looked at them sitting on the couch.  They were so relaxed, their bodies fit together very comfortably, but what struck me was their hands.  Their fingers were entwined in a gorgeous, natual "knot" and I know they were probably not even aware they were doing it.  I knew the minute I saw it that it symbolized something I never knew, a love I've never experienced, the type of love a girl dreams about. 

K&J, I wish you many more years of that.  You guys deserve it.

Posting ... before I delete it.