Today he was telling me I still did the wrong thing and it "wasn't my decision to make," he especially liked to emphasize how much pain much pain he had been in and how this time he really would have been able to slowly detox all by himself.
He said he would leave me if I didn't bring him more salts, and today he was true to his word. I cried and tried to explain that I was doing what would keep him safe.
It hurts a lot.
I had a bottle of organic alcoholic root beer he had bought that he wanted to exchange for my books. I threw it against the sidewalk.