He had been clean for 93 days straight and he’d never felt more satisfied. Bu, the stress got to him and he gave in. It was the legal things that was stressing him out, figuring out what he needed done for his daughter. It all became to much and the urge just became that much harder to fight. What makes it even worse is that he’d not stopped. He relapsed and instead of trying not to again, he showed that he honestly didn’t care. Hence the reason why he’s lounged back on the sofa at the moment, a can of beer in his hand.
I come in here and I sit in silence and hear the echoes of who we used to be, and so I wish for patience, and grace, and the strength to just let him be happy. Mostly, I pray for the strength to not make his life worse because of what I want. That’s the toughest part, letting go, you know? That’s the part of grace that just really sucks