12:33 a.m. | 2017-03-14
and that's that
this is the latest picture of my brother and i, taken at my mom's birthday breakfast on sunday. he's got over a year of sobriety now. i'm so proud, and every day, a little less scared of his relapse. but i know that's the reality of loving an addict: it's always a possibility.
the darkest stages of my brother's addiction feel almost as far away as the loneliness i felt just half a year ago. pain fades so quickly. i think that's what makes it so dangerous: every one of those falls into darkness feels like the first time. you can't adjust. you can't make yourself immune. if you let yourself forget, you open yourself up to experiencing that same pain again somewhere down the line.
i don't want to experience that pain again. but i'm starting to think it's truly behind me. i'm starting to think that any pain i experience in the future will be a manageable dose, that i'll have people beside me to make it a dull throb and not a slice.
i feel like i've earned this. i feel like my brother has earned this. and i know life doesn't care about what anyone's earned, what anyone deserves, but fuck it, i am happy and i'm not going back. we've been through enough. we're going to be happy. we are going to be at peace.
and that's that.