“Choose the words that cut like a razor, and all I’ll say is Fire Away. Take your best shot, show me what you’ve got. Honey, I’m not afraid.”

The phone is not ringing constantly. I’m not getting any texts.  My heart hurts. I’ve had to rely on lots of introspection the past 48 hours and realize how much I liked being the savior, and how co-dependent both of us are. It’s been two weeks since my last post because I haven’t had time to breathe, So let me catch my followers up.

KJ is my boyfriend. We FINALLY were forced to confirm our relationship status in front of our friends who were tired of our denial that we are just fucking.  Actually, he called me his girlfriend. And I proceeded to get blackout drunk, and my friend told me that I looked like I was about to have a panic attack. In a weird twist, it was in that drunkenness that I knew he could overcome his own demon with alcohol. He cared about me enough to stop drinking and take care of me, to make sure I was safe since he’d never seen me drunk enough to be carried out of the bar.

KJ is my boyfriend and an alcoholic.  He’s recently hit rock bottom the past couple of weeks.  He’s also turned from alcoholic to raging alcoholic. One that lost his new job. One that got so insecure that he felt the need to be where I am all the time, or at least reachable every hour.  One that started insisting on going through my phone when he was drinking, (I said no), and started insisting I go through his.  And I was okay with this, because if he was with me, he was safe. And he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever been with so it made me feel good. (All his exes are trouble, but a lot hotter than I.) Then I wouldn’t hear from him some nights after we parted, and the first thing I would do was check the county jail shots.

KJ is my boyfriend, an alcoholic, and my best friend. I had a family emergency come up that required an 8 hour drive one way out of state.  The first thing he said is “I’m not letting you go through this alone Ellie. Let’s go.”  I told him I couldn’t deal with his addiction. He told me to give him a chance.  We hit the road, he had a beer to keep the shakes away but stayed sober. We sang at the top of our lungs. We played road trip games. I gave him a hand job going down the interstate. We talked about different things, nothing serious. He calls his mom, tells her he’s with his girl.  I tended to my family emergency, got back to the hotel room where he’d ordered in my favorite Italian food from a local spot.  He had about three beers (which is sober for him). We watched a movie. Made love about four times. Because of the minimal alcohol, he started withdrawing but it was okay.  We made love a couple of more times (completely sober) the next morning and began the long, heart wrenching drive home. I’d done research on alcoholics that were detoxing but I have never experienced it .  He started talking government conspiracy theories. Yelled at me (for the first time ever) that I needed to suck it up because I knew what I was getting into. I was physically and emotionally exhausted by the time we got home.  He, however, agreed that he needed a long inpatient stay. We talked to a couple of addiction counselors and got advice. (Go figure, I was advised to let him buy alcohol until he got admitted, sudden cold turkey can cause death).

KJ is my boyfriend, my best friend, an alcoholic, and my heart.  We saw each other the next couple of nights. He warned me that he may push me away because he knows he will say things to hurt me while he’s in rehab. He also mentioned that if I cheat, he’d find out about it and he will honestly be worried about that.  He gathered my information a few days ago so I could be his contact person, and I haven’t heard from him since.  I know he’s there, I called the hospital. His mom has talked to him. But he hasn’t called me.   I’m trying not to overthink. Did he get sober and not want me anymore? Is he protecting me? Or the most likely scenario, he doesn’t have my phone number memorized.  (They take your phone immediately in the hospital). All I have is two missed calls from him right before he went in that I couldn’t answer because I was in a meeting.  The hospital says that he only gets one fifteen minute visit per week, but I need his “code” to see him, which I can’t get unless I talk to him.  I feel selfish for worrying about our relationship status. And happy at the same time that he’s doing this for himself, but also partly for me.

But I”m terrified. I’ve stuck it out this long and will continue, and am sure the next thirty days will become my new normal. Until then, all I can do is keep busy.

“Hate me today. Hate me tomorrow. Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you.”

Lying on my right side, a hand on my boob, beard nuzzling the back of my neck. Then just two days after, the voicemail saying “Ellie, this is fucked up, how you treat me. You’re dead. I”m done. I don’t give a shit”  because I didn’t answer the phone after 18 missed calls. The conflicting emotions of both detachment and being crazy about him.  Yep, KJ is back. He’s been back for about a week but I’ve been processing so much the words wouldn’t come for the blog. I’ve also worked on this post for a week, but the highs and lows have me constantly changing themes, so I’ve decided just to go straight with what’s happening.

Rewind to eight days ago, when I get a number from a phone number that I don’t recognize.  Then a voicemail that I listened to ten times, because I had resigned myself to the fact that he was gone, and it was for the best. “Ellie, it’s KJ. This is my new number. Hit me up. Need to talk to you.”  He sounded well. Told me he’d moved back in with his mom (about forty minutes away from me) temporarily while he straightens up. He got a job at a really nice restaurant. He wants to meet me in two days and is willing to drive my way to talk.

I see him. He tells me he wants an actual date, more than just hanging out at the bar, getting drunk, and fucking.  He sounds better than he has in weeks. We actually begin texting throughout the day and talking on the phone at night. Discuss how things might work since we no longer work or live near each other.  Agree to take turns making the trip.

Friday night comes and we both have to work at our jobs. The plan was for me to come to him (and meet his mom possibly…eeek), and have a drink with his new work friend. I got off later than expected but still made the drive. I talked myself into ending it all the way there. And then of course I saw him,  We had the best time and the best conversation ever. He tells me how he went out a few nights prior and met a 21 year old girl with big boobs who gave him her number, and how he could have fucked her that night, but instead he went outside and called me (he did in fact, call me five times that night while he was out). He told me he realized that she might be a lot younger, and for that-could be technically considered hotter, but she wasn’t me.  She wouldn’t be as good in bed. Or as smart as me. Or as witty. Or as fun. I fall into these words, as the past two years anyone I’ve grown to care about has always passed me up for someone “better”. For once, I have a super hot guy that thinks I’m out of his league.  He again accuses me of being closed off and tells me that’s not fair to him when he’s such an open book.

*Kiss*

“My favorite color is royal blue”

“Blue is my favorite color”

*Kiss*

“My favorite show of all time is Dexter.”

“I threw the remote after watching the last episode I was so invested.”

*Kiss*

“Virgo”

“Pisces”

It was a chick flick kinda scene. Complete with the funniest sex I’ve ever had. (Story for later but it has to do with KJ almost suffocating in an Easter basket.

We talk on the phone Saturday. He’s supposed to come my way on Sunday. I’m working (he knows this) and my phone begins ringing at about 5 PM. After thirteen missed calls, I pick up.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Work”

“Are you sure?”

“uh, yeah. Pretty sure.”

“You’re not at work.  Don’t even fuck with me Ellie”.

I hang up. My heart drops. He sounded so out of it. I receive a voicemail that says “I can’t believe you are fucking doing this to me, knowing what I’m going through. You’re dead to me. I’m done. I don’t even give a shit anymore.”  The funny thing is, I didn’t even react. I was expecting it.  He calls back at around 10:30 sober, didn’t even remember leaving the voicemail. As all addicts are, he was extremely remorseful.

Monday night, he surprised me by showing up at our usual bar before I got off work.  We had no drama. He was himself. It was the first time we really acted like a couple. He played pool, I hung out with my friends. We’d pass each other and give each other a kiss on the lips and an “I love you”.  These young girls were talking to him, so he’d put his arm around me and give me a kiss on the forehead for reassurance that he’s not interested in them.  He makes the comment that he can look at my boobs all he wants because they’re now his.  We kiss a lot. He tells me he wants to chill now with our life. He wants to cuddle on the couch and watch Dexter and eat pizza, just be a couple. (I never agreed that we are a couple but everyone else calls us that so I guess I’m going with the flow.)

Last night, he sends me a text that literally says “Ksssneds%%” . Sinking feeling is back. I say huh? He says “where are you?” I say “home”.  He responds “good, I like to hear that.” He follows up ten minutes later with another “where are you?”, in which I say “wtf? see above. I’m home.”.  He calls, and I ignore. I get another scary, slurry voicemail “Baby, call me. Please. Thank you.” I ignore it and text him that we’d talk the next day, That we need to talk.

The highs and lows are a new level of chaos. What’s screwed up is that I was upset that he didn’t keep calling over and over, because at least I know he’s safe when he does that, as annoying as it it.  Everyone knows that he’s dragging me down too. I’m mentally exhausted from the worrying and actually physically exhausted from the constant sex. Who knew I’d ever say that? I know I’ll be ready to reach the point soon where I’ll be ready to give up on him. I just feel I’m the only one left in his corner. But at what do we stop sacrificing  ourselves by being a good human being and helping someone toxic? I can’t go through what I did by losing my best friend, someone I love to addiction again. If I would have tried harder, it could have been different. So how can I give up on KJ?

 

“If you love me don’t let go. Hold on, hold on, hold on to me.. because I’m a little unsteady.”

KJ is gone. I lost him. Literally. No breaking up was required. Like “Bye Felicia” “Adios” “Sayonara” “Deuces”.   I knew something was wrong when he couldn’t remember having sex with me (see previous post), but I didn’t know it was that bad.  For my mental health, it’s for the best.  For my heart, it sucks.

I saw him Thursday and we talked and made up from Wednesday. He was normal.  We had fun, even though he was working. He chilled with my kids. After realizing I had feelings for him, I wanted to see if I could help him overcome what he needs to overcome.   We made plans for Friday, and for the first time, I was the one to say “I love you.”

Friday night comes and he doesn’t show.  I look on our schedule app for work and notice he’s no longer listed as an employee.  I have no way of getting in touch with him since he broke his phone so I called a coworker. She informed me that he came to work so strung out that it was dangerous.  He ended up walking out of work and going to a town about an hour away from us, to one of our other restaurant locations, where he proceeded to get more fucked up and kicked out.  He’s worked for our chain for over ten years, so I knew it was something major.  Everyone is concerned. His mom doesn’t know where he is. HIs roommate says he didn’t see him for a day and a half. I dropped by his place last night. I went to every bar I know he goes to. He’s nowhere.  He’s such a creature of habit that he never goes anywhere different.  I don’t have a good feeling.

He’s gone. And it is out of my control.  Even if he comes back, he still has to be gone for me. I can’t go through this again with someone I love. Addiction is a beast that love or sex cannot conquer. I feel like KJ has been dangling over the railing of a bridge and I’ve been holding his hand feeling his hand slip through mine, but at the same time, he’s trying to send me over with him.

With CS, I was heartbroken, I cared about him a lot. Loved talking to him and spending time with him, but I wasn’t in love with him, and he didn’t need me. I cried and cried and cried when he broke up with me.  I haven’t cried yet for KJ. I’m numb and protecting my heart, because when it finally hits me, it’s going to break me for awhile, there’s no crying for three days and getting over it. I had to sleep on the couch last night because I”m so accustomed to him on Fridays going to sleep with him curled up behind me, beard nuzzling the back of my neck, and hand on my boob. I actually had to wrap my arms around myself for comfort.  When I woke up, I had to stare at the ceiling and realize I don’t know if he’s alive or dead or safe.  And hear his voice in my head telling me just five days ago “I’m damaged babe. I love you but don’t do this to yourself”, before making love to me like he never had.

It’s so funny how life works. When I started posting about KJ and we were just having the best sex of our lives.  And then me not telling him I’m ready when he asked.  And then figuring out I have feelings for him by hooking up with someone else. And then him disappearing after I told him I loved him. There’s no closure to be had on this one. He’s gone.