The Night He Finally Chose Me

We always knew there was something about us that couldn’t be ignored. Even when we both had other people, it didn’t matter — we couldn’t stay away. We were obsessed with each other, completely hooked. I’d sneak over every night, even when I moved two hours away just to make people think we weren’t seeing each other anymore. But he’d still drive back and forth every night and morning, even while working all day, just to be with me.

The truth is, though, he was using. And deep down, I always knew. He knew I knew, too — but he still tried to lie. He thought he could love me and still love the drugs. It was meth. He started out shooting it, until the marks on his arm gave him away, then he started smoking it. I’d see the pipe bulging in his pocket, and every time it made my heart sink.

He thought he was slick, hiding his stash everywhere — in the van we lived in, inside speakers, in broken seats, in toolboxes, even in a little metal box you could only pull out with a magnet. I’d find one, and he’d have three more hidden somewhere else.

He’d say he needed to stop at gas stations a dozen times a day, claiming he “had to use the bathroom.” Nobody poops that much. I knew he was going in there to get high. He’d come back wired, eyes wide, ready to stay up all night and chase copper for money. I’d help him, even when it broke me, because I needed to eat and survive, too.

It was freezing most nights. I’d shiver until my teeth hurt, but he was too high to feel the cold. Sometimes we’d scrape up enough money for a motel, and it felt like heaven — a real shower, a soft bed, warmth. When we couldn’t, I’d wash up in a gas station sink, trying to hold on to whatever little bit of normal I could.

We fought constantly. He’d promise to change, and I’d cling to that hope, even when I knew he wasn’t ready. But we also laughed — a lot. Somehow, even in the middle of all that mess, we still loved each other harder than anything.

And then came the night everything changed.

I told him straight up — I was done. I loved him, but I couldn’t watch him destroy himself anymore. He just looked at me and said, “I’ll be back soon.” He told me to go pick up food for us, so I did.

When I got back, he told me to get in the van. We drove in silence for a while. The air felt thick, like something was about to happen. Then, without a word, he rolled the window down and threw every single thing he had left out into the dark.

He looked at me and said, “I’m done. I can’t lose you.”

This time, I believed him.

The next few days were rough. He barely moved, barely spoke. He slept for what felt like three days straight, and when he was awake, he was sick — shaking, sweating, empty. I sat there and held him through it. I didn’t know if he’d make it, but he did. Slowly, he started eating again, sleeping right, laughing again.

Life didn’t magically get easy, though. Now that he was clean, feeding both of us was harder. We bought a little air mattress that deflated every single night, but it didn’t matter — we were finally free.

Then he got a job offer from his uncle in Florida. It wasn’t much, but it was steady. We packed what little we had and headed south, and it was the start of something new. He stayed clean. We worked hard, saved up, and started building real stability.

Then came New Hampshire — a trip that was supposed to just be a visit to see his family. But he proposed to me there, in the most beautiful spot in the mountains. That place will forever mean everything to me.

We ended up staying there for a year, and it changed our lives. We both got amazing jobs and lived on a lake in a campground that felt like paradise. Every day felt like a vacation — like after everything we’d been through, we’d finally earned peace.

Now it’s just us and our baby, building a new life surrounded by love and family. He’s not only a good man now — he’s a dad, to our little one and to his other kids, too. Watching him become everything I always knew he could be makes every single hard night worth it.

Because this time, he finally chose life. He finally chose us.