He relapsed.
I really don't know what to say. It's raining here today and it's almost prophetic of my day to come.
I felt like I got hit by a car when he told me.
I smelled it on him when he came to get me from work.
I asked him, "were you drinking?" And just as if I asked him what time it was, he said... "I had a beer".
And with those four words, my life seemed to stop. I always knew that relapse was a part of recovery. I thought that I'd prepared for this moment. My mouth was moving. I heard myself talking about rehabs, moving, and what we were going to do next... But my heart was asking myself if I were in a dream.
