Pain, the thief.  He has stolen my life.  He is robbing me of my lover and changing my best friend into a distant stranger.  I watch him suffer day and night, night and day until the line between them exists no more.  I am helpless, frustrated and exhausted.  I am resentful and angry.  I feel like the victim no one sees.  I search for answers, relief and strength to help him hang on.  I give him encouragement and, sometimes, what I know to be false hope.  I admire him for his endurance and I know that he makes the effort simply because he promised me a lifetime of love.  I cherish the rare moments that he can force a smile to convince me that he's okay.  Is it fair for me to hold him to his promise rather than let him go to a place where his body could know peace?  Am I selfish to make him live an unproductive life, weary from drugs, fighting depression and chained to his solitude so that I won't have to live with out him?    Am I a victim - or am I the real perpetrator of an unspoken crime against my love?  It is clear that pain, the thief, will not let him go.  Should I then?  I know an end to his pain is inevitable - but how and when will it come?  I fear the answer.