about 174 days a year, you tell me you couldn't give a sh*t less about what i think.

But I've known you for 22 years. I can see right through you. And I know that statement is a lie. I know that what I think really means everything to you.

What I can see is that something's got a hold of you. I don't know what it is, but it has been eating you away from the inside out for the latter half of my life. It's taking over your actions, your words, your emotions, your entire being. Whatever it is has been slowly tearing you away from me, to the point where you need to stop at the liquor store to find something to numb the pain before you can even set foot in the house after work. This thing has you thinking that it's not as worth being there for me as it is worth being there for the people in your office or for the benefit of a few lab results at the doctor's.

As a 12 year old, I spent almost a month being terrified to speak to you because I knew that whatever I said, the conversation would always end with you yelling at me for being a bad student. But we reconciled, and I thought maybe I had you back as long as I tried harder to be a better kid. As a 15 year old, I cried as you called my little brothers liars and told me I was just the same for defending them. But I told you how much it hurt to hear you say that about your own kids, and I thought maybe I had you back as long as I kept my mouth shut. As a 17 year old, I gave my boyfriend many embarrassed goodbyes and asked my mom what  kind of girl you thought I was after you would yell at us for being alone together in the living room at 9 PM. By then I had already learned that nothing I could do would bring you back; instead, I just think a little more before inviting people over anytime after 5 because I know at least a third of the bottle will already be gone by then, and I'd rather keep up the charade that we're all happy and full of rainbows than try to explain anything to any outside audiences. Today, at 22, I still don't bring guys home, my stomach still knots up and my face cringes at how you might react if I tell you I found a leak earlier in the bathroom sink, I still apologize multiple times or even cry myself to sleep if I think I've done something to make my parents' lives more inconvenient than they already are--whether it's forgetting to take pizza dough out of the fridge or not cleaning up well enough after my brother throws a party or not getting more financial aid for school. Today I find myself looking at my baby sister and hoping she doesn't have to feel this same way ten years from now, while hating myself a little because I can't be as strong a person for her to lean on right now as I wish I could be. Today I find myself looking at you and wanting you to tell me where I went wrong, what I could have done to fix it, how I can get you back.

Look, while it doesn't help that you still feel like you need to drown me and the rest of the world out with a bottle and a half of white wine every day, I know I can't pin all my broken pieces on that. I have some huge problems--problems that are exacerbated by but run a little deeper than helplessly watching alcoholism take over the life of the only man I could ever love this much. These are problems I have had for a very long time, and it wasn't easy for me to finally admit to someone that they were there. So yeah, even though you say you don't give a sh*t less about what I think, I get how this feels. We are constantly taught that we all make mistakes, we all have our own strengths and weaknesses. But really, nobody wants to voluntarily point out their weak spots. Nobody wants to readily admit that they can't do it all. It takes an unbelievable amount of strength, willpower, and self-confidence.

Only the strongest people can admit that sometimes, they need help too.

You once told me that you would do whatever you needed to do to make sure I was safe and happy. I know that deep down, this is still true. Whatever happens now, however many times you continue to tell me my feelings are not worth it, please don't ever forget that you have always been and always will be my Superman.

Please, Superman, this is when I need you to be the strongest man in the world. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I need you to ask for help.

I need you to save yourself, so that you can save me.