One day

And the look she gave me when she found out

was a mixture of pain and regret

with disbelief and, of course,..

anger, the anger that turns your vision red
The anger that hides

her the quivering lower lip of dis-trust and the tears of betrayal streaming down her face.

I did not intend to cause her so much pain and so many tears.

I got caught in my addiction.

So many years and weeks and days of

honesty

sincerity,

faithfulness

trustworthiness

shattered and now rent useless.

Cutting into her chest with a razor-sharp wood chisel, slowly stripping the skin off her ribs, would be less painful.

Breaking her exposed ribs one by one, would be less painful.

It was me, piercing her exposed trusting heart, with my selfish behavior

that causes me to be guilt ridden
labeled "betrayer!!"

and the shatter-er of lives.

and it started not too long ago, ....

One day I was bored, nothing more nothing less,....

Confident in myself, I thought about a short escape from reality.

other people can look,...... once

other people can taste,........... once

it had been so many years since I have done either,

and with the years of accomplishment as my justification,
I believed I was like the other people that can taste,... just,..... once.

One day I was bored, nothing more nothing less,...

That one day, no one was home, it had been a rough week at work and the family was at one of the kids ball games without me. I was alone and bored.

That day I took a look and had a taste, not too much,.... just enough to time-warp past the boredom.

When the family got home, I was cool,

... and no one knew what I had done.

The family was talking to me, but in the back of my mind, I was playing again and again and again, that secret-feeling, not hearing a word they say, I just wanted that secret-feeling again.

All of a sudden everyone was laughing at what my oldest had just said,

I not listening

missed the humor,

missed the spontaneity of the moment

missed the moment of family love and togetherness.

I laughed, not knowing why, ...
and inside I felt guilty and alone, ...an outsider to my close, loving family.

Just a few hours ago had a small taste and I am now thinking more of that,.

than being with those that I love so much.

The next day, using my self-inflicted guilt I tried to push that secret-feeling away,

but the work too stressful

the traffic too much

the money too little

blended with my guilt.

The secret-feeling wants me and I want it.

Living in the anxiety that makes my head explode I search for relief, and find it in the fantasy of using again.

The fantasy turned into a goal.
With the goal in mind I created a plan,
The plan gave me focus and my anxiety went away and I felt like I had control of my life.

That day, I left work earlier than normal, and got home later than normal.

By the time I got home,
I had missed the dinner table conversations
so I did not have to fake laughing at a missed joke,

By the time I got home,
the kids were in their bedrooms already
so I did not need to look into their precious trusting, crystal clear eyes.

by the time I got home,
the kids were asleep
So I did not have to give them hugs and remember how important they are to me.

by the time I got home,
I could justify just going to sleep
so I did not have to hide the telltale signs of usage from my wife.

I passed out, not feeling the guilt,

I passed out and not feeling the anxiety

I passed out not feeling the love.

I passed out not feeling.


This was the first day that led to me
to be guilt ridden
labeled "betrayer!!"

and the shatter-er of lives.

boy crying

the little boy begin carried by his mother

looking over her shoulder crying

screaming

DAAAD

daddy

daddy

DAAAAAAd,

and his older brother looks back to see his dad as they move out of of sight

gets a slap to the back of his head and stern words from his mother.

and as I turn the corner I see a man with a tissue with water filled eyes

using the the tissue to blow his nose and hide his emotionally ravaged countenance.

sniffling as if he has a cold or in his truth crying uncontrolably

crying as if it was his fault for the previous scene,

I put myself here

And I cant stand the thought,... that I put myself here

choked up

tear filled

stomach wrenching from the pain

pain of longing for

pain of needing

pain of so desperately wanting to be with

one more touch

one more hug

to smell their hair one more time

my very core

and my heart

are now both void and hollow without you.

I can't find enough distractions to ease my pain, to ease my guilt.

The death metal that can rip the skin off my bones as it erupts through my speakers has no effect.

I am numb to the disgust of the cockroaches crawling across my feet.

Numb is all I can hope for,....

my pain,

my agony and

my regret

it is ALL my fault.

I, . . . . . did the abandoning.

I destroyed the utopia, thinking that it would all work out.

The movies always show living happily ever after, our life had been a wonderful storybook, so it should end happily ever after.

but like the only survivor of a plane crash in the desert, it is, I, who tries to survive.

To live one more day.

using images of you,

the hope of seeing you,

the need to hold you and breath you in again

to get drunk looking into your eyes

to hear you laugh, one more time

I the solitary survivor - do what I need to

to live one more day.

and my self inflicted torment makes my sick

food wants nothing to do with me.

something is trying to rip its way out of my chest.

I am suffocating on my loneliness.

The music can't get loud enough.

I can't write enough.

I can't become numb enough to forget

forget the way you can get soooo mad

forget your cute little phrases

forget your never ending smile.

The homeless have shelters.

The suicidal have hot-lines.

But for me there is no help for me while I survive the loneliness.

no help from the repeating thought,

I put myself here

its my fault - I put myself here

I put myself here

its my fault - I put myself here

I put myself here