the fight.

i can't even begin to count the amount of times i woke up in the middle of the night and searched for you.  when i found you, passed out uncomfortably on the couch, i would try to wake you, to no avail.  you were out cold.  literally, cold.  your skin would be slightly damp, but freezing to the touch.

i should've walked the first time it happened.  maybe, we wouldn't have ended up where we are.  but i thought i could fix you.  i thought you loved me enough to stop.  i thought if i could just ride it out, it would pass, like a phase.

all those times i told you that your family enabled you.  well, i was guilty of it, too. 

i enabled you.

i failed you, and in so doing, failed us.  my love for you clouded my judgement.  perhaps things would have been different if i had been better equipped to help you. 

but instead, i was angry.  i was bitter that you didn't want to sleep with me.  i was hurt that you were never you anymore.  i was jealous of all the time you spent with your brother.  i was frustrated that you never showed up on time, and sometimes you didn't show up at all.  yet, still, i fought those thoughts in the back of my head that said, "run."

it's too late, now.  i'd do anything to take it all back.  i'd do anything to take your problem more seriously.  maybe it wouldn't change anything between us, maybe even it might have made things worse.  but it would've been worth the fight.