Rivi

“I remember once listening to Rayya counsel a friend whose younger brother was lost in heroin addiction. This woman kept trying to save her beloved sibling by paying for one rehab after another, by trying to get him jobs, by bailing him out of jail, by letting him borrow her car, sleep on her couch, exploit her financially, use her soft heart as a landing pad. She was wrung out by years of heartbreak.
I remember Rayya reaching across the kitchen table for this exhausted woman’s hand and saying, “Listen, babe. Let me break it down for you—you don’t have a brother anymore. He’s already gone. You need to understand this. There is no more brother, okay? What you have now is a vampire. I know it’s confusing, because this guy looks like your brother, and he sounds like your brother, but it’s a vampire. And that vampire will drain you of every dime and possession you have, and then he will discard you once there’s nothing left to take. And trust me—that vampire doesn’t give a shit about you. So you better start giving a shit about you, or else you’re gonna wake up one morning and discover that everything in your life is gone, including him.”

“But he could die if I cut him off!” the woman protested.

“Your brother is already dead,” Rayya told her. “And you might need to grieve that. But the only question now is whether he will ever decide to come back to life. That’s a matter between him and God. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

I also heard her tell somebody once, “You can love an active addict for sure—but they can’t love you back.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, All the Way to the River