No Guts, No Glory

Reflections From the Heart

When he drank, my husband became an overwhelming monstrosity. One drink was one too many, ten never enough. The more I tried to be supportive, the more he was in denial, declaring, “I can quit anytime I want.”

Emotions carved a hole in me like the machete Donny used to slice at the shrubs, vines and lurking snakes. I hated seeing my husband in a drunken stupor, losing touch with reality. But when he was sober and in his right frame of mind, I became goo-goo eyed, in love with him all over again.

The paradox of my heart.

One foot in front of the other—that’s how I kept my sanity intact. Much too encumbered to mull over my plight, I tended to my girls and even began thinking about babysitting other children for extra income.

By then, Donny threatened much, delivered less. I tried to ignore his childish ways…

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2 thoughts on “No Guts, No Glory”

  1. Me, many years ago:
    – You know you’re going too far, right? –
    – I know. But I can’t help it –
    – And you know I won’t be here forever… –
    – I know, but… –
    – Good. Because I’m leaving –
    Silence.
    He suddenly reacted:
    – But I love you! –
    But I had already closed the door behind me.

    Like

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