Dear Relapse,

I am not afraid to honestly tell you, I hate you.  I do not hate many things in my life and it is not a word or emotion that I use recklessly, but for you it is appropriate.

You are a predator.  You lurk around preying on the slightest moment of vulnerability in myself and the people I love.  You are dirty and under-handed, and you should be ashamed.

I pray each day that I never meet you myself.  And I pray even more for the sake of those that do meet you.  I pray for their safe return to a safe place.  I pray for them to have the strength to come back, the strength to reach out, and the strength to be loved back into one piece.

Tonight I pray for my friend who met you yesterday.  I am sending him every ounce of fight I have, hoping that he will have the power to take his sobriety back, and hoping that he sees you have nothing to offer him.   Your promises are of a lifetime of pain and discomfort, insecurity and hopelessness.  And nobody wants you.

Sobriety offers me the opportunity to be the person I always dreamt of being.  Sobriety offers me happiness, security, stability, and unwavering strength.  Sobriety offers me fellowship and love like I’ve never known.  Sobriety offers me the path of least resistance, which I have always searched for.  The real beauty in sobriety is I get to keep these things forever.  I get to continue to be honest, respectable, strong, and devoted.  Not like the temporary lie of relief that you offer.

I don’t like to use the word ‘hate’.  But it is the only word ugly enough to embrace what I feel for you, Relapse.  I hate you.

I hate you.

I hate you.