the message

This morning I woke up, turned on the computer, and checked my messages.  Right there, staring me in the face, was a statement from the woman I love, "I am so sad, I hate you for what you have done to us." That's it.  Nothing else, sent around 10 PM last night.  My heart leapt into my throat.

I wish I could tell her how much I love her, and how hard I am trying to get this addiction behind me. I want her to be able to see into my heart:  to see the hope and optimism I have, the efforts I am putting into to try to get to the root problem.  I want her to know that I hate this life as it is, the past few years of the constant struggle to stay sober, sometimes just to stay alive.  I think that sometimes the alcohol saved my life, because without it, I may have been so full of pain I might have ended it all. But recovery is additive, and I feel myself getting stronger.  It takes knowledge and practice, and, unfortunately, painful lessons.  And I have had my share.  I want her to know how sorry I am for upending her life.  But the word 'hate' kills me.

I thought about not responding, because what do you say?  I have put her through hell over the last six months.  Words are meaningless at this point; there is no convincing her that everything will be OK.  She's not hearing it.  And that's hard to swallow, but I know it's an absolute.  But I love her, and still see my future with her.  Can't imagine it without her.  Don't want anyone else, never did, never will.  So, with that being said, I will continue along my path, because there is nothing more in this world that I want than to be sober.  Nothing.

So I replied, "No matter how you feel about me, I love you."

And I am still heartbroken.