Thank you
The house is so... quiet, these days. Dead quiet and cold, even with a fire in the hearth. I stare into the fire and lose myself in it, in the little comfort it offers. It is not my husband's arms or my children's embraces, but for now it's all I have.
They would be so proud of me, if they knew. I am free of my addiction, completely and totally. I do not crave it any longer, and even had a glass of wine with Gabriella, my youngest sister (the one who still sees me, God bless her) without even thinking about a second or third. I am quite proud of myself, I must admit. I wasn't certain I could break my dependency, with them gone. Where is the motivation, after all? I drank for myself and stopped for my children. Without my children, why?
I suppose it was because I still hold the hope that maybe, just maybe one day they will come back. I'm likely setting myself up for heartbreak, but hope is nice. Hope keeps the house clean and the beds made, keeps me healthy and strong in this harsh winter.
I owe my hope to a man I met in the Mansion. I had been sitting alone on the staircase, utterly numb. Had I been drunk I likely would have been contemplating suicide in those dark moments. I was more empty and alone than I can ever remember feeling in all my life...
And then a man came and sat beside me. He embraced me as if I were an old friend, kissed me on the cheek as if I were a beloved sibling even though we'd never met. The man simply sat there and held me, as if he could read my thoughts and know exactly how alone in the world I was.
We talked. I told him my story, and he listened. He promised God would make it right, and I believe him. I believe every word he told me. He would have found Alfred and spoken with him had I not asked him not to. It was my pushing that drove Alfred away, after all, to think of some stranger showing up when he thought he was away and asking when he'd be home... I doubt he would ever return.
The man is an Angel. Literally, though I now know why the expression is used. I have never, nor will I again meet a man as purely good as he is. He told me his story as I told him mine, and while he has sinned, his are faults not nearly as wicked as mine are. Worse, perhaps, for he defied the word of God, but for a noble enough cause. The only cause for every sin I have committed has been myself, and I am ashamed of it.
I don't know where you are, Michael, or if I will ever see or hear from you again. But know that I wish you the greatest luck in your endeavors and I pray for you nightly as I pray for my husband and children. I love you. Not in the same way I love my children or my husband, or even my sisters... but I do love you, although we've met only once. And I wish you well.
Thank you.
They would be so proud of me, if they knew. I am free of my addiction, completely and totally. I do not crave it any longer, and even had a glass of wine with Gabriella, my youngest sister (the one who still sees me, God bless her) without even thinking about a second or third. I am quite proud of myself, I must admit. I wasn't certain I could break my dependency, with them gone. Where is the motivation, after all? I drank for myself and stopped for my children. Without my children, why?
I suppose it was because I still hold the hope that maybe, just maybe one day they will come back. I'm likely setting myself up for heartbreak, but hope is nice. Hope keeps the house clean and the beds made, keeps me healthy and strong in this harsh winter.
I owe my hope to a man I met in the Mansion. I had been sitting alone on the staircase, utterly numb. Had I been drunk I likely would have been contemplating suicide in those dark moments. I was more empty and alone than I can ever remember feeling in all my life...
And then a man came and sat beside me. He embraced me as if I were an old friend, kissed me on the cheek as if I were a beloved sibling even though we'd never met. The man simply sat there and held me, as if he could read my thoughts and know exactly how alone in the world I was.
We talked. I told him my story, and he listened. He promised God would make it right, and I believe him. I believe every word he told me. He would have found Alfred and spoken with him had I not asked him not to. It was my pushing that drove Alfred away, after all, to think of some stranger showing up when he thought he was away and asking when he'd be home... I doubt he would ever return.
The man is an Angel. Literally, though I now know why the expression is used. I have never, nor will I again meet a man as purely good as he is. He told me his story as I told him mine, and while he has sinned, his are faults not nearly as wicked as mine are. Worse, perhaps, for he defied the word of God, but for a noble enough cause. The only cause for every sin I have committed has been myself, and I am ashamed of it.
I don't know where you are, Michael, or if I will ever see or hear from you again. But know that I wish you the greatest luck in your endeavors and I pray for you nightly as I pray for my husband and children. I love you. Not in the same way I love my children or my husband, or even my sisters... but I do love you, although we've met only once. And I wish you well.
Thank you.