I guess I should have just kept my big fucking mouth shut, but it would seem I never learn.
I asked Josh at lunch if he was planning on drinking again this weekend and he said yes, either Friday or Saturday, maybe both. We started getting into an argument about it. We’re still arguing. The kicker? He said to me that we shouldn’t have sex again this week since we’ve already done that a couple of times, too.
Seriously? You’re going to use sex as a weapon against ME? I don’t fucking think so.
I told him I’d be fine with never having sex again, and right now, I really and truly mean that.
I’m having the Xanax debate with myself again. I’m just waiting to see how he responds to that before I do. I only have a few left and I don’t want to waste them for nothing. But if he reacts like I’m fairly sure he will, I’m probably going to need 2.
He texted me on his break and things went from bad to worse. He’s accusing me of purposely picking at his one bad habit just to make him feel like shit. I finally gave in and told him that he wins – I’ll never bring up his drinking again. I also told him there will be no more sex, no more showers together, and no more snuggle time. Then I told him that I would never bother him again. He told me to fucking stop.
All of this has lead to the mother of all migraines. I actually threw up at work it was so bad. I then went to the one remaining supervisor and told her I’d thrown up and that I thought I needed to go home and take some medicine for it. So here I am. Alone in the house with all the pills. Feeling completely desperate and beyond hope.
He’s not worth it, I know he’s not. But what the fuck am I supposed to do? Nothing I do or say is ever the right thing. I say stuff about the drinking because it scares me. He’s been hospitalized for it before, he could very easily wind up in the hospital again. I told him I just can’t stand by and watch him kill himself like this. His reply was that he doesn’t feel any deader today than he did yesterday so he must be fine. Whatever, I’m done.