Dealing With the Elephant

Over the past several months I've had several different plans regarding the love of my life. I recall the first one, the crazy one, in which I would volunteer to get heavily into crystal meth amphetamine, in order to more fully, um, "bond" with her. That idea died quick, thank goodness. Then, I decided I would make her an offer she couldn't refuse; I would go into drug rehab with her, and work on my coffee addiction while she conquers meth, either that, or, I call the judge in her upcoming trial for cultivating marijuana, and request a drug test for her. That idea died too, probably for the best, although we'll never know. My current plan, the one which might stick, is that I remain willing, ready, and able to enter drug rehab with her at any time, we go together, and I pay for it, no conditions, no blackmail, no threats. I haven't actually communicated this to her; I don't plan to call her. She is welcome to call me, or visit, any time, but I doubt she will; she probably freaked when she realized that I can see the huge elephant in the room, despite her cleverness in hiding and disguising it. I still fear that she's going to die young unless somebody steps in, and the thought depresses and terrifies me; maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she'll live to be old, healthy and happy along the way. I'll never forget the time I stood in my driveway as she loaded her things into a truck, and saying to her: "there were three helicopters circling over your marijuana crop several weeks, ago, weren't there?" Her response?: "yes, sure enough there were." I didn't bother to say something like "what does it take for you to catch a clue?" It seemed pointless. People on meth feel great; energetic. strong, self confident, invincible, smart. No matter what they decide to do, its the right thing to do. To hell with helicopters above her pot crop; she didn't miss a single visit to the site. I will probably never see or talk to her again, but I can pray.