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I have a different kind of alcoholic marriage when it comes to alcoholic marriages.

For the most part – baring any provocation on my part like, oh say, expecting something of him – my husband does not yell.

He does not berate me.

He does not call me names.

He does not demand the house is clean, dinner is on the table and/or that the kids are clean and present when he gets home from work.

He does not expect that our love life stay healthy as our emotional life dies.

My alcoholic husband doesn’t…

Do…

Anything.

He doesn’t kiss me good bye in the morning.

He doesn’t kiss me hello in the evening.

He doesn’t call when he’s going to be late or because he heard something funny or because something made him think of me.

My husband does so little that if I am out of town and my husband calls me, I get scared that something bad has happened.

The other day I decided, you know what, two can play at this game.

When I left the house to take my youngest child to practice, I didn’t tell my husband good bye, that we were leaving.

I didn’t tell my youngest to say good bye.

We just left.

No word.

And it felt really…

Horrible.

Another person’s drinking destroys you because you begin to slip into their abyss without even realizing it.

Even when you make a conscious decision.

Because the fall is greater than you anticipate.

 

 

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