Hope can be such a wonderful thing. It can carry you through your darkest times and help you to rise above your troubles. Sometimes it’s difficult to have hope.

He left for work this morning, angry about a pair of socks that were not there last night and now have dirt on them. The dirt was not there last night. He’s angry because he thinks I got up and went out with the phantom person/people while he slept. Of course, I drank so much red wine last night that I don’t think I ever moved at all until the first alarm went off (I have to quit self-medicating with wine!)

He’s still sending me texts about it. Asking why the dogs didn’t bark when he yelled out the window at them but I don’t recall him yelling out the window. Why didn’t the dogs bark or come to him when he went outside but I don’t remember him going outside and according to the sock problem, neither did he. It is entirely possible that he went out back after I went to sleep… I honestly don’t know. That would explain the socks…

So where’s the hope? This situation is looking bleaker and bleaker, right?

Well, he texted me and said that he is out of meth and he is not going to get anymore. He’s quitting so he can see if I’m lying to him and trying to make him feel crazy or go crazy (last night he congratulated me on making a man crazy – “something not many women are able to do”). He is still talking his craziness right now but I am hopeful that in a day or two, things will start to settle back down. I am hopeful that the man I am in love with comes back soon. I am hopeful that we can work through our issues, drug related and not drug related. I am hoping to spend the rest of my life with this man.


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