I did it again. I fucked up on Saturday night. I completely messed up all the progress I’ve made the past few years to move away from dependance on it. But I fucked it up. My willpower went dead and I completely lost control. I once again saw red, and I want more.
Remember when you asked me what I’d do if you asked me to marry you at prom. Remember how I told you it wasn’t a good idea. And look at us now fighting our own heads to find something to keep us together. Find a way to not fall apart. This is what I feared then and this is what is happening now. All I want to do is get past this, make things better. But we were thick bulletproof glass that got worn down to a delicate fine china plate. One trip, one mistake and that just might be enough to break us. Almost two years and I never thought this day would come. Well, I never thought it was possible for us. I ruin everything. Even the permanent commitment that was us.
"Think of the first moment you knew.
Think of the diagnosis. The strings of meaningless letters.
OCD, Bipolar Disorder, Xanax, Lamictal,
Think of the year you wasted, comfirming that YES, you are in fact, sad.
Think of the year after that that it took to get help.
Think of the time you could have…