Drunk driving

What do you say to one of the most important people in your world when they tell you they drank and drove and hit something and didn’t know what it was, cause they were so drunk that they didn’t even think to stop and see?
You ask them if they’re ok.
You ask them if there was any evidence of blood on the car and start crying in relief when they tell you that it was definitely an inanimate hard object given the damage to the vehicle.
And then you rage and you summon all the most elaborate invectives in your vocabulary but you fail and resort to the most common ones, but your deliver them vehemently in spite of tears.
Because, thinking they could control their drinking and didn’t need AA anymore, they deserved each and every one of them. And they know it too, but still you tell them.
You tell them.
And then you tell them, you’re so angry with them you don’t even want to speak to them anymore and that if they don’t get their posterior back into AA meetings, you’ll never speak to them again. Cause God knows that once you’ve decided you loved someone it was damn hard to get rid of you, but you’re not going to go to bed each night wondering whether they killed someone or themselves.
And then, a couple of hours later, you cry yourself to sleep imagining what life would be like without them.
And that, ladies and gentleman, seriously sucks.