A look back

You see, I thought I had hit my bottom already.  But to understand, I need to give some background. 

I divorced in 2005 after 13 years of marriage.  I know divorce is bad, and I do not ever recommend it when friends say they are considering it.  But, then again, I hang around different people now than I did then.  And, I am different.  A sign of God's refinement in my life as He walks through the valleys with me.

After my divorce I began dating one of my boyfriends from my college days.  I am not one of those who cares to visit the past of "old boyfriends".  My thought here was that the relationship had already ran its course.  It ended as it should or as it would.  Why revisit that again?  Isn't that the definition of insanity?

Bill, was different.  We never really "broke up".  I was a year older than he.  I graduated and went on my path.  He was still in school and stayed on his.  He was the one "ghost" from my past that I would wonder about...how is he?  what's he doing?  where is he?  is he married?  does he have kids?...

Finally, we were in the same place in life again although life had taken us on two different paths.  The same chemistry from "back in the day" was still there.
In college he was known as quite the party animal and when people saw us together it never made sense to them because I was more the goody two shoe type...certainly not in the same league on the party scene (although I had my fair share of wildness).  But they didn't know him like I did.  They didn't see him walk me home, holding my hand.  They didn't know he took me on a picnic at the pier at sunset and we talked all hours of the night about any and everything.

Dating him was so fun! I felt young and ridiculously happy. Finally, I would get that happily ever after. We dated for almost two years.

There were cracks though (where aren't there???).  He was in the hospital four times...once he passed out after working out when we first started dating.  He said it was because his electrolytes were low.  There were other times and other explanations.  I kept telling him it was not normal though.  The only times I had been hospitalized were for giving birth.  I kept suggesting that he needed to see a doctor.  He was too sickly for someone in his prime years.

At Christmas, he went home to visit his parents and passed out and had a seizure at church.  I drove to Tyler to see him and about fell out myself as the doctor's questioned his parents and I about him being an alcoholic.  I had seen him drink wine...with me even.  I knew he drank in college.  But, an alcoholic???
We didn't live together so I really didn't know what went on when I wasn't there, but his behavior never seemed like an alcoholics.  I have learned A LOT since then with a whole lot of introspection into my life the error of thinking that alcoholics were loud, angry, abusive people.  (there's a whole other story the
there for another time).  He denied it, at least in front of us.  We told the doctor's we wouldn't let him drink.

Once he came home and recovered from this last "sickness", he had begun to talk about wanting to get married.  I didn't think he was an alcoholic.  He had been nothing but loving, kind, everything I wanted.

My family has a tradition of going to eat at Pappadeax around Valentine's day. He was there with us.  He looked particularly sick to the point where he had to go to the bathroom and throw up.  He seemed disoriented and was behaving oddly.  We were going to go to an SMU basketball game after that, but my mom pulled me aside and said I needed to take him to the hospital...that she would take the kids and I needed to take him.  But, he would not listen to me.  I asked, begged, got angry and he blew me off saying he just needed to go home and get some sleep.

I called his parents, whom I had met and loved.  Told them, as hard as it was, that he needed to go to the hospital and he wouldn't listen to me.  They got in there car and made the trip to Dallas.  His mom is not someone you want to mess with.  They got here and drove him to the hospital themselves.  They told his parents had he not gotten to the hospital, he would have died.

He was in ICU for days and eventually the hospital for a long while.  In the interim, between Christmas and Valentines, he had put his townhome on the market.  Thinking it would take a while to sell (at least 6 months) then he would move in and we would get married.  During the time he was in the hospital, his townhome sold.  His dad closed the deal with privileges to handle Bill's affairs.  When it was finally time for him to come home, the home he came to was mine.