The Mistake That Broke Me

Chapter Fifty One: Cold Shower

Song: Let You Down by NF

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The night was a solemn one. Full of worry and eventful nightmares that forced me to stay awake until the sun rose the next morning. I layed in bed until I heard movement about in the kitchen and I instantly knew who had come back.

I got out of bed, my movements sluggish and it felt like the weight of the world rested on my eyelids. I didn't care that I looked tired despite just rolling out of bed and I certainly didn't care that Colton would be seeing me this way.

Maybe a small part of me wanted him to see me this way, to see what he's done to me and see how is own decisions impact me, also.

But I knew he was hurting, too, so let us hurt together.

I opened up the door to my bedroom, it creaked loudly as it did so and it caused him to turn around and look at me.

His hair was messy and oily looking. Dark, wrinkled t-shirt stained with God only knows what and dark bags he wore under his bloodshot eyes. My eyes caught on to something scarlet on the inside of his arms, and I shivered when I saw small bruises and dried, crusted blood on his arms left behind by the needle.

He looked like a mess just as I, I guess neither of us had much sleep last night. 

"I feel like shit, let me take a shower first and then we can talk, okay?" He asks, his voice deep and low, sounding sad.

I nod, not saying a word and he walks past me towards the bathroom and shuts the door. I sink down onto the living room couch when I hear the water start and just give myself time to think.

In all honesty, I don't know how to deal with this situation. What do I say? Are there even any right words to say? And what about my emotions? Should I be stern, angry, or patient with him? Yelling and arguing probably wouldn't be the best decision, even though that's certainly what I wanted.

I wanted to yell at him and express the hurt and anger I feel. I just wanted him to realize the severity of his actions but I didn't know the right way to go about that.

He's hurting and I'm hurting.

When you bring two broken, hurting people together they are bound to screw things up, sometimes beyond repair.

Damn it, I didn't know what to do.

I just knew that I - we needed to put an end to his addiction because the last thing we want is letting it get out of control. I know he doesn't want to end up like his parents and I know that that's enough motivation to keep him on the right track if he just puts his mind to it.

He's strong, not perfect and I have to remember that.

He has the strength to resist but the imperfection to fail, but I know he can defeat anything his demons might try to trap him with.

He needs support, and though I can provide him with that, that's not enough to change him. He has to make the decision to change, not I.

Yes, I wish I could do more. Perhaps control him in a way, tell him what he needs to do and hell, never let him leave the house if that meant he would be safe. I laugh at the thought, shaking my head.

But I can do nothing of the sort, I can just watch him from the sidelines, cheering him on and helping him up when he falls.

He's out of the shower pretty quickly, and he emerges within ten minutes dressed in clean clothes and looking much cleaner. He towels his hair one last time before hanging it back up on the rack and flipping off the light switch of the bathroom.