I’m sober now for 3 whole months it’s one accomplishment that you helped me with
      The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won’t touch again
      In a sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
      While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight

Tonight I saw a scene that was probably very similar to the kind of scenes I made when I was with you. I think this is why I like working at the bar even if now I don’t drink. I’ve been sober for three months now, successfully sober. I tried to stop before but failed but since I work at the bar I’ve managed. The irony, uh?  But it’s not the bar what keeps me sober, that helps but it’s not the reason why. It’s you. You helped me to accomplish this and I’ll be forever in your debt for this. Forever grateful.

What I saw tonight was a reminder of why I have to be strong and stay away from the drinks. I saw this man getting pissed, drinking nonstop and shouting things about life being a fucking mess and how everything was disgusting and we should all rot and die. He shouted every obscenity he could think off, snapped at whomever got closer and cried. He cried until he passed out and we had to grab his mobile and call the most recent number dialled to pick him up. A girl came, younger than him and when she saw him her eyes watered. I could see the heartbreaking pain in her eyes, the desperation and fear when she approached him and tried to wake him up. He shouted at her, pushed her and she even fell, throwing a stool with her and breaking some glasses. I helped her and she was crying then, desperate because she didn’t know what to do.

I helped her to carry who was her brother to her car. I saw her wiping tears frantically as she drove away. I was left there, thinking of all the times you had to pick me up like that. Did some stranger helped you to carry me? Did you cry? Did I hurt you like that? Were you scared? I know you were but I couldn’t stop myself. It was so hard and alcohol was the only thing that shut the voices in my head, the memories.

You know my life wasn’t easy. You know the kind of troubled infancy I had and how the past haunts me every day. I’ll never be free from that, but I had found comfort in drinking until I passed out. The pain ceased then. But I harmed you in my need to find oblivion.

I’m sorry.

I know you suffered and worried for me but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop, I just wanted peace and that was the easiest way. And I hated myself so much, but you held me up. You were with me when I ended up in the hospital, crying by my side. I know you did that. I was in peace but you were in hell. How unfair. 

It was always unfair with the two of us. It was always worse for you. You had to carry my weight and hold me when I was falling apart, when not even alcohol made all the pain go away. When I lost myself to my own hatred and all I wanted to do was to end it once and for all. You were there, telling me to stay. You cried, you begged and pulled me back.

I know some nights you couldn’t sleep because you were scared I might wake up and just end my life. You were scared I was going to take all the pills in the flat so you stopped buying even aspirin, although you got headaches almost every day because of me, although you were in pain, you preferred not to have them around for my sake. But getting pills is so easy. You sacrificed yourself and I still found my ways to get high in drugs. 

You were terrified to leave me alone to then come back and find me cold on the floor so you started skipping classes. Later you skipped days at work for me. I saw the effect of worry on you, how it was draining you yet I could only think of my pain. 

I was so selfish. I needed you because you were the only precious thing in my life so I wanted you around all the time. I took you from your family. From your friends. From your colleagues. And still I couldn’t stop. I kept the substance abuse and made you go through hell.

There wasn’t a day I wasn’t drunk or high and you put up with me. You helped me the next morning, giving me water and food so I could recover. You held me when things got ugly and called for an ambulance. You were always there. Even when I humiliated you in my drunken state. When I couldn’t even recognise you, you were there.

You would think that after I left you I drank even more, but no. I stopped immediately, although I failed a couple of times. Every day I managed to stay sober I thought of you, doing this for you. You deserved me doing this sacrifice, this effort, this different type of war even if we weren’t together anymore. I didn’t do it when we were together, but I was doing it now and it was all because of you. As a way to apologise, I think.

So yeah, the bar helps me because I can see what alcohol and drugs do to others. I can see myself in the guy I helped today. In other people who drown their sorrows in a drink, but that’s not dealing with the problem, isn’t it? It’s just postponing the pain for later and it makes it worse, because drugs make you weak when you’re recovering, more susceptible to the burning pain. I didn’t see that before but I do now, because now I’m stronger and I promise you, even if you can’t hear me now, I still promise you I will never touch a drink again. I’ll stay sober and be stronger. I’ll constantly fight my demons instead of shutting them up for a while to then let them ravish on me later on.

Thank you for helping me to become a better man, although I’m not good enough for you. I’m afraid that even if today I go back to you we would fall into the same pattern. Staying away from you gives me a reason to stay strong. And for you I’ll keep fighting, to thank you for all the sacrifices and the pain you endured and the strength you gave me. For all the things you did for me. Thank you.