I helped them pack up the van today, trying not to cry the entire time. Someone please explain to my why I have to let them go again not ten hours after I got them back?
I tried to laugh at their stupid jokes about coke and rock and roll, but I couldn't find the humor in it. What I really want to do is grab him and smack him around and say, "Don't you understand what you're doing to yourself, to me, to us?" He doesn't understand or worse, he doesn't care.
"I'll go to rehab when we get home, I promise." That has got to be the vacuous and insincere thing I've ever heard. The worst part of it all is that I'm stupid enough to believe you. You almost killed your brother last night!
I know things are going to be hard and that it's going to be like this for a while, but all I really want is my boy back, my bitsy boo, and I don't think that's too much to ask.
In other news, though this pales in comparison, I got my job back.