Sometimes

Sometimes, you are reading the Pioneer Woman cookbook and you start to cry.

You probably aren't sure exactly why you are crying except that you've been riding the tallest, fastest steepest emotional roller coaster in the world for 3/4 of a year now, and you are really just ready to get on It's A Small World.  You want to ride on a tiny boat, on a calm sea, where everyone around you is happy and smiling and singing and doesn't have a fucking care in the world...even if it's only for 5 minutes or so.

Maybe it's because you keep reading recipes for Peach Whiskey chicken or Plum Honey chicken with red wine, and you wonder if the recipe will be ruined if you omit the whiskey or the wine. (For the record, in the case of the Peach chicken, it won't be ruined at all.) Every time you come across things like this, your mind begins a mental check list of all the things that will never be normal in your life if your life includes him.

Maybe it's because you know you love him. You love him so much that it hurts. You want to fix him SO BAD that it tears at your soul. And you know that you can't. And even worse than that is knowing that it would be easier to just turn your back and walk away. To just pretend like the last 8 months never happened. To pretend like when you walked out the door 4 years ago, you never walked back in. It's worse knowing that you can, but you won't. At least not yet. You hope not ever, but you don't know. The not knowing is awful.

Maybe it's because you are tired. You are exhausted physically and emotionally. When you are in your own comfy, soft bed, you lay awake for hours and stare at your cell phone. You check to make sure the ringer is on, and then you check again. You look at the clock and the hours tick by and you don't want to admit that lately, sleeping pills are the only thing letting you sleep at home. When you are with him, you sleep so soundly, even if it's on the hard fucking futon with some tv show blasting, because you know he's 6 inches away from you and for now, he's safe.

Maybe it's because you are helpless. I mean really, truly helpless. You can clean the house as much as you want. You can do all the laundry and fold it and put it away. You can buy things to make the house smell good. You can cook and make sure that there's food to eat that doesn't have to be made in a microwave cup or didn't come from the gas station. You can put candles on the table and matching towels in the bathroom-all the little touches that make it look like a home that someone cares about. And none of those things are going to make anything any better.

Maybe it's because he knows he needs help. And you know he needs help. But so far, he's not getting help. And that's scary.

Maybe it's because you got tired of reading about how vicious this disease is. How hard it is to overcome, for the person who has it and the people around him. How it hurts the people who love him as much as it hurts him, sometimes more. So you picked up that Pioneer Woman cookbook and she looked so happy and her life looks so fantastic that it just made you cry. You know that it isn't. You know that no one's life is perfect and that she has problems just like you do, just like we all do. But for a moment, you wish could trade places, and make that chicken with all the ingredients.

Sometimes, it's impossibly hard to love someone and be able to love yourself at the same time.