One More Round

Shame is what gives birth to sin. Five weeks in and that thing around his ankle recording every drop once a half hour, so the decision to trade freedom for a drink was an entirely lucid process. I have been a fool to allow myself to believe that I know that life. I wonder if he thought of me that way; the fool who will always be there, no matter how much shrapnel there is to wade through. I wonder if he was still meeting girls on myspace and sleeping with them, up until the end. I wonder if that's why he made that decision about the drink. If it was a girl at the bottom of the bottle.

I don't know what to do now. I tried closing off my heart to that section of it, and it just ended with a breakdown when the floodgates opened. I tried to let him back in so we could work together through the emotions, and now my heart is broken again. So frustrating, so incredibly frustrating. To wade through the process slowly, and alone. I wish I could make sense of any of it.