So this morning while I was getting ready for work I started thinking about the T.V. show Intervention, and I started replaying the end of this one episode in my head where the sister and brother and father read their heartfelt letters of support and then the guy agrees goes to rehab and then he’s happy and everyone is happy and everything works out like aces, and then I remembered this other episode where the dude outright refuses to get help and he stalks off and his family is trailing him and threatening that they’ll break off ties completely, and then I started thinking what if the beau had an addiction? And it was so hard because I knew he was there somewhere under the drugs but it was like he was gone and our parents were despondent and our children were sobbing and then I got so upset that I started crying right there in the bathroom, and I was crying while I was making coffee, and I was crying while I put on my coat, because how goddamn heartbreaking can you get?
Then, on the way to work, I remembered that the beau is not actually addicted to heroin and that we don’t even have any children. In summary, we are all fine and everything is okay. Except for my makeup. That shit’s kind of ruined.