Reality: I walk past the door.  I see him inside, the love of my life in the bathroom popping pills.  The scene shocks me to my core, I rush in grabbing the bottle from his hands yelling at him to stop.

     He throws me against the wall and says its none of my business he'll do what he wants.  I throw my arms around his neck pleading for him.  He finally relents holding me to him as he colapses on the floor pulling me with him.

     I see his tears, the bottle of half empty vodka on the floor, and not one but four pill bottles.  And i realize, this wasnt just some late night addiction feed.  He had just tried to kill himself by overdosing on alcohol and prescription pills.  He rocks me as we both cry ourselves to sleep the floor cold beneath us.

Intro. to my mind:  As I sleep I dream and I have a realization.  Its one of many I have had in my life, wonder if it will affect me because the others havent.  But it did strike me funny, so I'll tell it to you.

Realization:  It was odd seeing him there, with the bottle in hand.  I knew he had problems, he popped pills once in a while, did weed and drank a little excessively.

     But I'd never seen him do it, just as he never saw me cut, never saw me work to hide the scars I'd created or the hours I weaped after doing it, and once i was done crying to then pick up the knife again and go back to work.

     And you know the moment I saw it it just hit me funny, I've known about my problems all these years, worked on them, struggled with them.  But at that fatal moment when I realized what he was doing it was like realizing I had been in my bedroom all these years staring in the mirror at myself.  But until that moment I realized I'd forgotten to turn the bedroom light on.