I’m sitting here alone, eating breakfast, listening to This American Life. Ira’s voice has become such a comfort to me. I don’t know whether I should consider that a good or bad thing.
What I am wondering right now is how does one just down 12 beers and not be concerned about it? Well I am wondering so much more than that. I suppose that my hyper-awareness of the fact that every action has a reaction is a large part of this. I’ve tried to help, but he’s pretty much laid it out on the table that this will not be something I make him change. Quite honestly the sound of that refrigerator opening and the sound of a can opening late at night has made my heart sink so many times. When I come home and open the refrigerator all I can think is, ” another night.” I try. I try so hard to not let it get to me. But really? How can I let the one person I love the most do this to himself?! How? And if I just let it go, then what will it be like 5 years from now? Hell, what will it be like 1 year from now? It’s not that I want him to completely change who he is. Although, if he considers drinking and smoking to be a fundamental part of who he is, then I think we have very serious differences to discuss. I am happy, but I am most happy when he is not smoking or drinking. I don’t think he understands that this is not a question of loving who he is, it is a question of having concern for the one person I am in love with. The one person I would give everything for. And if he cannot let go of these habits for our love, then what hope do I have? That’s what I really wish I could ask him, whether I should keep hoping that one day he will change. Because if there isn’t any hope, then this will be one of the hardest things I have ever had to accept. This morning when I woke up and saw all those bottles my heart sank, and yes, I think I felt anger. Perhaps I am just fulfilling that notion that so many women have that they can be the ones to change their significant other, but who often fail… I just wish he would be so much easier to talk to about this, but I think he’s built his arguments and is too hard set on his ideas.
I love what we have. I love our Yazoo. I love our love. I love our good days. I love him, like no other. I love his mind. I love his dreams. I love our crazy ideas. I love everything that we have together. I love cooking with him.
I dislike his drinking. I dislike his smoking. I dislike that he doesn’t want to see the damage that he is doing to his body. I dislike our fights because of this. I dislike having to react the way I do because I don’t want to cause another argument.
