“I can’t go back to yesterday. I was a different person then.”

There were good things. There were many good things. Good things as simple as just standing in the kitchen and talking after sharing a cab home from work. Making one, or all, of the cats do something silly. There was just laughing together. There was always laughing.

Cheering at Game of Thrones when Daynres flew away on her dragon and realizing what massive nerds we were. Binge watching House of Cards on Netflix. Binge watching tons of shows.

If I was in bed when he came home, I’d wake up, briefly, to a kiss and a ‘I love you.’ Sometimes, he’d lay next to me and tell me about his day. When I would come home later than him, which was rare, I would lie in bed and talk to him. I miss those the most. Sometimes, we’d be up all night in bed. No, I miss those the most.

But like almost everything, where there was good, there was bad. And by bad, I mean unhealthy. A mess of codependency and addiction. A seperation was necessary.

Codependent behavior is pratically normal in many relationships, but just because it’s normal, doesn’t mean it’s healthy. Eating fast food while living a sedentary lifestyle is normal, but it sure as fuck isn’t healthy. And our relationship was killing me, maybe not physically, but emotionally and mentally. I’m sure for both of us.

I’m still learning what it means to be codependent and how to recover from it. Similar to alcoholism, once you’re a codependent, you’re always a codependent. To some this probably sounds like bullshit, but trust me, it’s no bullshit. It’s a pattern of behavior that’s existed since I was a kid and has been apparent not only in this last relationship, but in all the others as well. Codependency is learned behavior. How I learned it is a whole other post or two or twenty.

To that, I’m trying to allow myself to be the person I’ve always wanted to be. Years of shitty self-esteem and self-doubt that smashed this girl down are slowly being eradicted. And it’s happening, slowly, but it’s happening.

When I think of good things between him and me, I remind myself with the reality of the situation. I remind myself of the alcoholism and the constant pointless struggle that was involved. When I think of the good things, I become despondent and I ask myself, “Why does he have to be an alcoholic?” It’s a pointless question. He was one before I knew him and he always will be one, whether he goes into recovery or not. The question I should ask myself is, “Why can’t you give yourself closure?”

Sometimes, I imagine there’ll be a knock on my door. I’ll open to it to find him standing there. But we’re not the same people that we were when we were together. We’re better. He’s sober and I’m confident. We’re both happy. Even though we were seperate, we learned how to be happy. We learned how to be happy not for someone or with someone, but on our own. I like that moment. It has so many possibilities – like closure. Who knows after that moment. Maybe we’ll hang out. Or maybe nothing will happen. Maybe he’ll be like, “I like your new cat!” And I’ll be like, “Thanks! He’s awesome!” And then I’ll close the door and that’d be it. I don’t know.

I don’t know because I’m a different person now. The dynamic we once had is gone – and thank fucking God. There’s an opportunity for mutual respect instead of a complete lack of emotional honesty. I’m no longer the person that sat and watched the person I loved most in the world drink dangerous amounts daily and said nothing because I was too afraid to speak up. I’m not the person that made angry sarcastic comments about his drinking. That sat and fumed with resentment as he drank, but still did nothing. I regret my inaction not so much for his sake, but for my own. Very much my own.

Maybe good things can be created between us in the future. Maybe we’ll create good things with different people. I don’t know. It depends on one another’s recovery. But I do know, like Alice in Wonderland, I can’t go back to yesterday. I was a different person then.

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