But it’s weird isn’t it?
How the thing that you watch destroy someone else is the thing same thing you want
To turn to in order to numb the pain they’ve caused you while destroying themself?
I’ve had my fair share of battles with alcohol;
I’ve found myself at the bottom of a bottle more times than I could count when I was 18 and-
I can still remember the way it dulled away the ache in my chest with every sip,
Almost like magic.
I remember the sourness in my stomach when I would wake up and
How my head would feel like it was splitting in two
and I would nurse it until it was better-
Just to do it all over again the same night and next day.
Eventually I gave it up;
Realizing that there were better ways to cope with the pain,
That I could heal from it instead.
Now I watch you drown yourself in the same bottles;
Witness you become a whole different person
as your love suddenly becomes hatred in the matter of just a few drinks.
You devastate yourself and destroy me and I-
I’ve tried so hard for so long to fight your demons with you
Only to end up on the battlefield broken and bloody;
Annihilated by the one whom I was trying to help,
Taken back to a desperate wounded version of myself that I worked so hard to fix.
Now I too find myself aching for the numbness;
Needing the gut wrenching feeling in my chest from the wounds you created to stop,
An escape from the harrowing reality that has become my life.
I fight the urge as much as I fight with you and-
I just think it’s weird.
How the thing that I watch destroy you is the same thing I want to turn to in order to numb the pain you’ve caused me while destroying yourself doing it.
