the first lesson i learned from loving you was to never let words remain unspoken.

because that very first sleepless night [[ when the force of your rough palm against my delicate cheeks pushed me to the sinking ground ]] was when i realized that i couldn’t bottle up the pain anymore. your insanity was driving me mad, too, and that night was the first time i screamed at you from the top of my dry lungs, telling you how much i hated the way you had let misery drown you.

your hands were shaking and your eyes were bloodshot; your body was slumped down against the wall as your eyes stared at the pieces of empty and shattered liquor bottles strewed across the floor. uncontrollable tears spilled down your face as you demanded me to leave before you hurt me again.

but i refused to leave because i loved you, and i was going to fix you.

“i’m here,” i whispered over and over again as i held you in my arms. “i’m here and i’m not going anywhere.”

but you pushed me away, telling me you were beyond saving, telling me that i needed to leave before you hurt me more.

and i screamed at you then; i screamed and kicked the bottles that you stubbornly clung onto and i spoke with rushed breaths and infuriated words.

“no, dammit. no. i see what you’re trying to tell me. you love this addiction more than you love me; that’s just it, isn’t it? you choose this addiction instead of choosing me. well don’t you get it? you’re my addiction. i need you the way you need these bottles of liquor. so don’t you dare tell me to leave, you hypocrite. if you can choose your addiction, then i can choose mine. and i choose you. i will always choose you.”

and you remained silent for minutes that felt like years, but finally you stood up from the ground and kissed my lips, and begged me to help you. i promised that i would.

i'm sorry i did, darling. i had no idea i'd only make it worse for the both of us.