Loving an Addict: In the Beginning

Posted: April 4, 2015 in Marriage, Love, Dating, and, yes, Sex!

It’s a topic I’ve never quite been able to write about, but one that’s been a part of my entire adult life- addiction. No, I am not an addict, but I’ve loved one and, oh, how I loved him. The story of the love and life that him and I shared is one that I still struggle to let go of, one that still hurts to my very core, and as I begin to try to write about it I know it will take time. But time is something I have plenty of, and I will start in the proper place- the beginning. 

Jay, who I have introduced in precious posts, was my first love and a bad habit that I could never break. I was just a kid really, when I first met him at 12 years of age. I was a sheltered church girl trying to shake off the shackles of being raised in a devout Christian home. He was a bad boy, or at least to any degree that a 14 year old could be. He was a grade ahead of me in school, hung with an older crowd, and had already experimented with alcohol by this point. I, of course, was not allowed to date. I wasn’t even allowed to hang out with boys. So our early relationship consisted of flirting at school but within a couple of years we, despite still not be permitted to date or even befriend a boy, began to see each other behind my parents back. Young and falling in love for the first time, I thought he hung the moon. I was hooked on him and would remain so for all of high school, while we went through a Rollercoaster ride of breaking up, dating other people, getting back together, and doing it all over again, time and time again. 

After high school things changed. He moved away and we broke up. I began seeing a guy I’d had a relationship with during one of our off times in high school. My life was about to change so much more than I realized when I became pregnant with my oldest son. My initial reaction was shock. Here I was, 18 years old, just starting college, and pregnant, but what felt like the absolute worst possible consequence  of my new situation was Jay would never take me back. He would never forgive me. Again, my unhealthy obsession with this boy, although we were broken up and I was facing the biggest challenge of my life, was the thing that weighed heaviest on my mind. When I told him, his reaction was exactly what I had expected. He never wanted to see me again. I was crushed. 

Months later I was finally in a place where Jay did not consume my every thought. Although I missed him every single day, my world was now consumed with someone new- the healthy baby boy who continued to grow in my belly. He would steal my heart the minute he was born. This little boy, who I have also introduced in previous posts as Big K, changed my entire world. He was my everything, and the 18 year old, mentally unstable, messed up girl that I has been just months before was now a responsible, dedicated, doting Mom. Although mental illness would continue to be a struggle, I was able to live with it better, to control it more. 

When Big K was 18 months old, Jay moved back home. He wanted to see me and I agreed. That moment, when we saw each other for the first time, standing in my friends kitchen, can only be described as the coming together of magnetic forces. The moment he walked in through the door we were in each other’s arms and it was as if nothing had changed. We were once again J&M. He belonged to me and I belonged to him. And, just like that, I was hooked again. 

What I didn’t know in that moment was that Jay had lead a life that I knew nothing about during the nearly 2 years that we were apart, a world that consisted of drugs and alcohol, a lot of alcohol. That first night we went to one of his friends house for a few drinks. I had drank with him a few times in high school, usually resulting in an argument, breaking up, and getting back together, but we were adults now, it wouldn’t be that way anymore, and it wasn’t. We didn’t fight. But I saw something different in Jay from that first night. His drinking was much heavier, and even when I’d had enough and wanted to leave, he wanted to keep drinking and did. 

It was the wee hours of the morning when he had finally had enough. We went back to his place for what would be our first night together in nearly 2 years. Our sexual relationship had been, since that very first time we’d had sex in his childhood bedroom at the age of 15, electric. We were perfectly compatable and had a passion for each other that knew no bounds. So, it was only natural that I would expect this night to be even more incredible. However, it wasn’t. Jay was drunk and our first time making love after just finding each other, two years after we has lost each other, was nothing like I had expected. The passion we had known and thrived off of wasn’t there. Something had changed. Not the love we had for each other, as messed up as it was, but he had changed…. 

The Jay that came back to me was not the Jay that had left. 

There is so much more of our story to tell. As I write each word the many memories come flooding back. Alcoholism, abuse, betrayal, heartbreak, marriage, a son, hardships, and so much more. It will take time, but each story in itself will be told. 


  1. Great writing and an engaging entry. Alcohol plays a part in my past too, but not in the same way as yours. I look forward to reading more. I hope it helps to write it out.


    • Writingofpassage says:

      Thank you for the kind compliments. I am hoping it will help to write about it as well. Many, many more posts to come. It’s been a long 15 years.


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