You Can Try, But...

You can sit through hours of misery, or leave him alone to ponder his crimes. You can scream in his face until you're satisfied, or fidget quietly through the silence of a hundred long car rides. You can search his things for the evidence, or protect yourself from knowing any more than you already do. You can write him a thousand love notes, and reach for him in the dark, and celebrate all of his victories, and seal your lips at the sight of his faults. You can shake sense into him, hammer sense into him, slap sense into him, talk sense into him. You can talk all day and every tired moment of the night. You can talk while he's listening. You can talk while he's drunk. You can talk in a voice you no longer recognize. You can get tired of talking. You can work on yourself. You can wear on him. You can write down the rules. You can change the rules to guidelines. You can watch the guidelines fade into distant memory. You can cry, you can cry, you can cry until he can't stand the sight of you. You can both cry together, but it won't make a difference. You can move in. You can move back out. You can change your hair, your face, your standards. You can drag him to church. You can drag him to therapy. You can beat yourself numb, try until you bleed, break your bones just to make it work. You can lay it all on the line. 

You can walk away. You can close the door behind you. You can grieve and mourn and lose yourself again.

Do everything you can, everything he needs, everything in your power.

But make no mistake my dear - he will never change.