2 weeks.

My eyes have gone down a bit.

I finally stopped turbo crying when I had an actual telephone conversation with Papi.  It was good for me to let him know in voice what my terms of condition are.

1. I will go home when he's 2 weeks clean and sober and not a day sooner.

2. I will not live with an active addict or alcoholic, not even for mi esposo. 

3. I love him

Still, the love of my life is not exempt from these conditions and I will never live with that bullshit again.

I've done it too many times in my struggling life, and this is not the way my life with my love was supposed to be.

He has made his mind up about being clean 'n sober, because he had such a bad experience the other day, and doesn't want to have that life of crying on a curb in the streets of the DTES.

One of his messages said, "I feel like an addict again."

It's the lies coming from alcohol if you think you can control it.

Of course you can!

Until it gets it's grasp on your meaty tendrils and then you're alllllll his.  That's when nothing matters more than another drink.

The wife you love so much doesn't matter, even if she's crying at home alone, begging you to take a cab and come home, because the drink has a hold on you.

No, you won't take that cab.

No, you won't come home.

I know this.

I've lived this.

Both from my end and from the end of the person who has loved me, yet left my heart dangling in agony, because their addiction had a hold of them and I no longer mattered.

There is nothing harder than watching someone you love kill themselves in front of your eyes, and having to leave love because of it.

Nothing.

There is no grieving like it, because you don't get closure when they're still breathing.  There's nothing you can do to save them, you can only save yourself, and watch them bob in your wake.

I have a lovely friend who has given me her home for a few weeks, while I watch mi esposo get better day by day.

I've never really believed in prayer, but I feel like it's what I'm doing now.

I pray my love makes himself better so I can go back to my beautiful marriage.

I pray I have the strength to believe that our lives together will be ok.

I pray the tears I cry as I write this will dissipate after I've written it all out and can go find coffee.

I pray for the dreams we have mustered to come to reality.

I pray for Papi.

I am grateful he sees the brutality of addiction so quickly.  

Most people have to go a little further to find it, and sometimes, that little further is too much to be able to see the crumbs to follow back home.

I miss him so much. 

I haven't seen him since I left for Seattle on Friday at 8:45 a.m.

I have a beautiful friend who has forced me to eat berries.

It was a good choice.  They're an addiction that is good for you.

I am grateful for these berries, the outpouring of friendship, support and love we have both received during this, and the optimism that I will be able to go home and have my marriage.

I would be very grateful if I had my lovely coffee.

And my Fuzzy Family.

And my life with Papi back to normal.

i have faith in my future