Sometimes you don’t hate the alcoholic.
Sometimes there is a glimmer of hope.
The glimmer of fool’s gold.
You spend the gold.
Sometimes your alcoholic husband comes to you and says he loves you and he needs you and he wants it to be like it “used to be.”
(Though you wonder how can it only be you that notices the big, gray, lack-of-apology-elephant in the middle of the room.)
He will try.
And you will try too.
To be loving.
And appreciative of his new efforts.
You’ll try too…
It’s not likely to last.