Time In A Bottle

Something I was reading earlier made me want to finally put this out... I've been the rounds with this person and nothing helps. I've sat in my car and cried with her after I played "Live Like You Were Dying". Explaining to her this is the only life you have, the only one God has given you and the only chance you have and your pissing it all away. If you were to die tomorrow what would people remember about you? Is that the legacy you want? I held her hand while she dumped the bottle down the sink and held her while she cried and promised no more. Will I drive you to the store? No, but I will pick up whatever you need as long as it's not a bottle because I will not enable you. Taking the low road, crying again, I yelled at her "How many children does your mother have to bury? The only difference between your suicide and your brother's is a shotgun." She's done well so many times and I've been so proud of her, I tell her how good she looks when her eyes are clear and her face isn't swollen. I know when I see her when those stretches of time are over. When her bloodshot eyes can't meet mine. She lies. I told her all the things I thought would get through to her. Everything that should have been said has been said. The dead horse has been beaten. Sure, I still talk to her sometimes but I've walked away. She knows, because I told her, I can no longer watch her die. Do I have guilt? Not anymore. Not after what I've said to her, not after the things I've tried. I can, with a clear conscience, say I did everything in my power to reach her. You can't help someone who does not want to change or take your help