Oh dear God, how I miss him tonight.
I don't know if it's because I'm finally exposed to people like him on a daily basis, or if it has just been coming. I weathered the five year anniversary of his death quite well. I've made my peace with it. I've accepted it and it's become a working part of my life that I'm okay in spite of the loss of my partner. But holy. Tonight I miss him.
If only because I have come across people who would have completely benefited from his point of view. From his philosophy; from his experience. He was a force to be reckoned with when he was sober. There was a life in him that I could not understand, but embraced nonetheless.
I just see these men. These ones that are headstrong and unwilling. The ones that believe they can do it on their own. And I feel for them. I do. Because I loved one just the same. The one that thought if he could *just hold it together long enough* then he'd have it licked.
He never did hold it together long enough. But his zest for understanding. His thoughts. His tenacity - it's what kept him alive as long as it did, I suppose.
But tonight? I wish he was here. Because he could give me insight on how awful it is to do it oneself. How jaded he was with recovery. Why he finally gave up trying. Because I think it could help me help them. And I'm sorry he's not here to ask. So very sorry. And so very sad. He would have made an excellent counselor for recovering people, if he could have just gotten there himself.
I miss him.
And everything he stood for. I'm pretty sure he'd take the ones that were die hard and give them some peace. But nothing doing. He didn't make it.