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He was so wasted he couldn’t bring his fork to his mouth and then spilled the entire plate of pasta down his shirt.Sobbing, I went to the bathroom to discover an empty liquor bottle he had hidden behind the toilet.I blamed myself for so long because I thought I was doing something wrong and causing him to drink. I made homemade pasta, played Frank Sinatra and we danced together in the kitchen.He left to go to the bathroom and was gone for a while.Shaking and sobbing, I woke him up and told him we were over.That night, I went to my parents’ house and finally told them everything. He often made plans with me, but alcohol would get in the way. I gripped his shirt and he gave me a kiss on the forehead.I often made excuses for him saying things like, "Oh, he's just tired from work and falling asleep on the phone."It turned out he was visiting the liquor store after work and purchasing a fifth of vodka he would consume every evening.Finding a wad of receipts in his car's glove box was how I found out.
After he left the hospital, his parents forced him to go to rehab.Alcoholism: This word probably makes you feel uncomfortable, right?I grew up without talking about this disease, and didn't realize its severity until someone I loved suffered.His door was locked, so I asked a neighbor to break in.There he was, bottle of vodka in hand, drunk and sleeping.