I was so angry at you for so long, I hated you and I cried many hot, painful tears over you. I wondered how I could have ever believed your words; I felt stupid and void of ever being able to feel again for someone. I wanted to erase every part of you from my memory, pull an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in my own life. The only piece of you worth keeping for me was Ambrielle, the beautiful daughter whom you walked away from, when you walked out of Sierra's and my lives.

Now, I don't hate you; I feel sorry for you. When I think of how much you lost when you walked away, all for the sake of being able to abuse heroin after 25 years of addiction, I feel pain for you. It is devastating that someone could waste do much of their life on a drug, even more devastating when the pull of this drug is more powerful than love for your fiance and two daughters. You broke our hearts, but we will move forward. I grieve for you, because I don't see you ever moving forward.

I'm sad for you because you pretend you're alright, when your green eyes say otherwise. Your smile is a facade you feel the need to keep up with, so they won't see that inside you're already gone. The man that I knew is no longer the man that you are, as you slipped deeper and deeper into old habits, and old habits die hard, but old habits can also cause hard death. You are dying, faster than you realize, and being someone I once was in love with and will always love, the father of my child, this rips apart my entire being.

When I think of those I've lost to drugs; my baby sister, the love of my life of seven years and father of my firstborn, my dad, multiple friends and family members, I forget to remember you. You're still alive in the fact that your heart is beating, but every other part of you has died. As I await that dreaded phone call or email from somebody telling me that yet another person who once meant the world to me is gone and gone forever, I realize that you've been gone for a long time.

I realize that you gave me a chance, gave these two precious little girls a chance, at having a life we could not have being held back by your dark downward spiral. It's held me back enough, even without you here. You broke my trust when I'd already sworn never to trust anyone again after losing Zach. I let you in, and you shattered me like an empty bottle of beer you just tossed to the side. I thought that you were doing this out of cruelty, but I can't help but wonder if perhaps you did it because you loved us too much to let us lie in the pit you're in with you. Pushing me away was the only way to make me leave for good when you had nothing you believed you could do left to offer. I believed in you, but you have never believed in yourself. I wish that you saw the potential I did when things were beautiful for us. I wish that I could have even a glimmer of hope that one day you'll be set free. Of course I pray for these things, but I see that you are so far lost you will likely never return.

You helped me to grow. I want you to know that. Through the pain that you cost me, I have learned slowly that I have the capability of being single and independent. You forced me into the realization that fragile Emily was not as fragile as she'd thought; she was able to endure a severe postpartum depression while raising two children on her own. You helped me to face some of my biggest fears; being alone, being left with my feelings to deal with and handle them responsibly. I am not the same person since you left, and I am all the better for it.

I also have come to see that love is still a possibility for me, a family, the dream I always had, it can come true without you in it. This may be the hardest thing for me to fully grasp, because I struggle to put my trust in anyone these days, but lately I've found some people who truly deserve to share the deepest parts of me and my life, because they care and they're not going to walk away. I also know now that even if they did, I would survive.

I hope that one day you can, too.