Saturday and Sunday left me emotionally drained yet strangely rejuvenated and calm. Saturday afternoon I realized that my doctor had prescribed me the wrong birth control and for two weeks I’ve been taking a full dose as opposed to the low dose combination I had expected. No wonder I was so fucking emotionally crazy and losing my milk supply. More tears of course came after that realization. I was livid. And nothing could be done over the weekend. Later, Josh was suppose to caricature and copped out because there a special event going on that voided our free beach parking. What he failed to inform me of was that it was the boat parade and he decided not to “work” because he had seen what was in my account earlier and felt he could slack off. Believe me, it’s nothing to write home about, and it all goes to freaking bills anyways. He told me he was getting kava then coming home. Lies. He got kava then went back to the beach to drink and got “stuck there” because the bridges were up. I was filled with fury. I actually wanted to see him and have a nice evening with the three of us and he chose to go drinking over spending time with Jashar and I for the millionth time. He told me he fears his responsibility to Jashar and I. To me that sounds like he doesn’t want us. And that scares me. This is what makes me feel like he could book out at any minute. He just wants me to be the one to send him packing so he can avoid the guilt. But that’s where he’s  wrong. He would never avoid that guilt. But if he doesn’t man up and continues to live in denial he could probably convince himself that he is once again the victim. That we didn’t want him. That would never be true.

He was wasted, I could tell in his text, and was apologizing profusely and feeding me excuses and stupid metaphors like “I have to fight the man in the mirror.” Shut the fuck up. I was so angry. He finally came home around 11:30 and crashed without a word. At 6 am I got up to go to the bathroom and he followed me in there like “what’s wrong what did I do?” and we spoke about it. He says he hates drinking, he hates the beach, he hates the way he feels. But he does it anyways. He never wants to go back. I tell him that it’s not the beach, it’s him and his choices. He is stronger than that! And he has to conquer those urges he has, because there always going to be there, and if he doesn’t go there, he will go somewhere else. The beach isn’t going anywhere! He will create another beach. There are a million places to drink. That is never going to change. I asked him if he needs to go to AA, and he said no, he just needs to be with me. He just wants to stay with me.

Sunday he felt like shit and I knew he wasn’t going to caricature again. Another weekend wasted, and it was a beautiful one. But I let it go. Jashar is sick, like every other freaking kid I know. It just circulates. He’s never been sick, then twice in the last few weeks. I seriously hope this is severely building his immunity, because he is miserable, not eating, and endlessly bitching at me. We stayed in and watched movies on my laptop, got a pizza from Mellow Mushroom, and while Jashar took a nap, had sex in the shower. He said it was great sex and he enjoyed it and he hasn’t been watching porn. He kept saying over and over how much he loves me. Been saying it incessantly for days now. How he really does love me blah blah. I still can’t help but be skeptical, but I love him and apparently I keep giving him what he wants… He said how much he enjoyed our day together and I really did too. He wants it to happen more often and I agree. God, my mind is so torn between logic and emotion!!! It makes me feel sick and all warm and cozy at the same time. Am I being emotionally abused or being there for the person I love through the most difficult period of his life?

When I met him he tells me he was at rock bottom. If I hadn’t met him, he doesn’t even know if he would still be here today. For sure he would be in jail, I believe. But who knows? Because of the decisions I chose to make completely led by my heart and every inch of my reawakened being those life paths forever changed their course. He met me at the perfect time for me to fall and not care about the consequences. Any earlier in the time line and all of this never would have transpired. Jashar might not exist. I was so malleable and open to embracing the moment and all I wanted was someone who I could get fucked up with and have great sex with. It only increased my desire that I absolutely fell in love with his art, I was the most physically attracted I had ever been to anyone, and I knew there was way more beneath the surface than he was telling anyone. I thought all he needed was someone to believe in him. He was so tortured. I thought he was me, but worse. I thought my love was the answer. God, I was such a pathetic fucking fucked up idiot. Of course, I’m still hoping with all my heart and soul that it was the smartest decision I ever made. But I guess you have to believe in fairy tales to even begin to buy in to that.