Marriage

It takes an ocean not to break. What does that actually mean, though? That the force of an ocean holds us together? That the ocean never actually breaks fully, even as the tide breaks over and over? Like all the best poetry and music, I’ve never really examined the meaning too closely.

I want to be clear about something. I'm not saying that behind every fun, pretty, filtered picture on social media there's a darkness you don't know about, or a disappointment, or an unfulfilled life. I'm not saying that it's ALL a big ruse. I just saying it's mostly like that. I'm saying you should carefully consider what you're not seeing in those pictures. There's a smart saying in 12-step programs: don't compare your insides to someone else's outsides.

Here it goes: since I was probably 15 I've struggled with drinking. Over the years I've done many things that could have completely destroyed the parts of my life I value the most. And if I'm being honest I have caused myself and others some significant pain. Being married and have kids now it seems

I’d hear the words tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth like a drumbeat in my heart—a prayer, an encouragement, a promise—that if I could find a way to do it, I would be forgiven and free. But I couldn’t find any version of the truth that didn’t make me a monster. I searched, even prayed for “good enough” reasons to leave: lies, a big betrayal, hidden addictions, a mortal flaw in him or our relationship, but never found anything but my solid, kind, just-as-promised man.

One important question to me is, did you lie to your doctor about drinking? Is feels so wrong to ask someone this question, and it's not about hope, but I welcome the opportunity to ask.