every night the dream’s the same

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Being with him is like a drug, where the world swirls around in a late-night haze of people you’ve met before but names you don’t recall, where everyone knows everyone and can get you anything you might need (including a few things you really don’t). And I will sit here and tell you all that I’ve got it completely under control and can quit anytime I want to. I will point to several examples in which I successfully demurred, or just plain ignored the proverbial pass. But take away the pearls and the high heels, strip away the Michael Kors and what are you left with?

A junkie, plain and simple.

I don’t remember when I freed myself of your hold exactly, but I remember the moment when I realized it.

We were shopping. She hadn’t been in forever, and I was exposing her to the wonderful world of boutique name brands and boot-cuts. Every dressing room we entered we filled with peals of laughter. A lovely day.

But as always happens with her, at some point, the conversation turned to him. I relayed to her the latest anecdote I had; a tale from a recent night out with him, his latest dirty deed.

From the checkout, she admonished me. “You’re his friend, you should keep him from doing those kinds of things! That self-destructive behavior…”

As I flitted from sale rack to sale rack, I stopped in my tracks. “Oh no. I am not responsible for him. Only he can keep himself from doing those things. There is no changing him, and God help any woman who thinks she can.”

I didn’t know where it came from. But it came out so natural, so easy, so… real. I meant it. Every word. Right there, in that little store, I gave up on him. Or at least, realized that I had done it who knows long before. He has so much potential. I see so much possible greatness, but held back by his own limitations. I’ve come to accept that he will add to my life when he’s able to. When he wants to.

Sometimes the way to get something is to expect nothing. I can’t tell here though, if I’m being grownup and adult about things by not expecting more than he’s capable of giving, or if it’s just the saddest thing ever in that it is this way. Maybe it’s both.