The death was sudden and unexpected. I never suspected it would happen. We were committed and in love. We were happy. I was happy. We were raising a family, we had hopes and plans. He killed himself, though, and the person who took his place was a thief and a liar who was capable of unspeakable, and unfathomable things. My husband was dead. How did this happen!?
Addiction kills, in more ways than one, and even if the addict comes clean and recovers... they are never who they were before they made that first choice to use. They are never the person you loved, ever again.
Right now I am standing on what seems like the precipice of a deep, deep chasm. That chasm is the rest of my life, and I am facing the prospect of negotiating it on my own. Alone. I had dreams. We were going to grow old together. Now I will go there by myself. It's still hard to comprehend. It all seems crushingly unfair, but then... we all know that life is unfair by design. This was supposed to be the part of life that was good after I had worked really hard and come through all the trials. Now I feel like I am back at the beginning. The boulder is rolling back down the hill, and like Sisyphus, all I can do is watch it in weary disbelief.
I am angry. I am angry at the man who made a choice and killed my husband. I am angry beyond words at inhuman slime who sell this life destroying drug. I am filled with murderous rage towards the people who profit from it. The people who bring it into this country and make it available. The people who murder with chemicals and propagate their armies of walking dead on our streets and in our nieghborhoods. I am filled with rage towards politicians who mouth rhetoric, and behind closed doors make the continuation of drug traffiking possible. I am filled with rage.
I wish I had the power to destroy them. To make them suffer like I have. Like I am. I am mourning someone who is still walking around... who I see, but know will never be mine again.
How do you get over that?
