In July 2014 my fiancée died as a result of his alcoholism.  He was hospitalized for exactly 2 months.  He was in liver failure.  Steve & I had been high school sweethearts.  We dated for 8 yrs, through college.  I was the first girl he ever loved. I was the first girl he ever made love to.  We grew apart & broke up.  We went our separate ways for 20 yrs.  I had gotten married and been married for 13 years. Steve came back into my life as my marriage was ending.  He had never married or had a serious relationship since ours.  He had never fallen in love with anyone else.  He dated occasionally, but never felt love like we had "back in the day."  He would have rather been alone than settle.  We cautiously began to reestablish a friendship. It was so easy it was almost effortless.  We spoke every day on the phone for hours at a time.  We met weekly to have lunch & talk in person.  It didn't take long to realize we loved each other again.  We were so happy!  The only problem was that Steve had developed alcoholism.  Three years before he & I reconnected his only sister died of cancer, leaving behind her husband, parents, brother, & 2 sons.  Steve was devastated when she had been diagnosed.  He had never been a drinker before; always preferred to smoke pot. If we went out & he had 2 drinks it was a big occasion.  Once his sister was diagnosed he started drinking every night to cope.  Throughout her 3-yr battle he started drinking more.  When she was admitted to hospice he visited her every day on his lunch break, but he needed a drink in the car first to get through it.  After she died he started drinking in the mornings too.  By the time I met him he always had vodka on him.  Usually it was "disguised" in a water bottle; but he was up front with me about it from day 1.  I had lost my dad to cancer 15 years before, & I used pot to cope, so I felt I couldn't be judgmental about it.  He wanted to quit but was terrified of withdrawals.  My family couldn't understand how I could fall in love with him knowing he was an alcoholic.  I couldn't make them understand that I saw him as more than just an alcoholic.  He was sweet and loving, respectful, and appreciated me so much.  He made me happy.  My face actually hurt from smiling and laughing so much every day.  We moved in together and decided that after my divorce was finalized (it takes some time to go through a legal separation and then months to wait for the judge to grant a legal divorce) we would get officially engaged and get married.  We got a puppy (I already had 2 dogs that he loved & who loved him).  He tried several times to gradually drink less & less, but it wouldn't last for long.  He'd go through a few days where he'd only drink enough to stay off withdrawals but a few days later he'd go back to his typical amount.  Warn vodka right from the bottle.  Granted he wasn't drinking 180 proof anymore, & he did tend to drink less around me.  He wasn't working & I was, so he'd drink during the day to pass the time while I was gone.  We lived together for 8 months before he had to be hospitalized.  He thought he'd have years ahead of him to quit.  Neither of us realized how little time we actually had.  His detoxing in the hospital was beyond awful.  They had to out him in a coma for more than a week.  The doctors told me & his parents that he wouldn't make it out of the hospital.  I begged them to let me get tested to donate some of my liver to him.  They refused.  I called every liver transplant team I could find on the east coast, but no one would help.  The rules say he has to be sober for at least 6 months before he could even be considered for a transplant, not counting hospital time. He had to prove that he wanted to quit and wouldn't drink through a new liver.  After he came out of the coma he improved. The hospital even started talking about moving him to a physical therapy rehab. One night as he was eating yogurt I noticed blood on the spoon.  I thought he had cut the inside of his mouth.  I was wrong.  They couldn't find the source of the bleeding.  He was in another coma the next day and died the day after that.  It was so fast.  The night before I saw the blood he had seemed so much more like himself; he had even been flirty.  He must've knew.  The last visit he had with his parents he told them we were going to get married & thanked them for being so welcoming to me when we got back together.  The last night he saw me he had told me how much he loved me & that he wouldn't have survived this long without me.  When he had never found love, before we reconnected, he thought someday he would die alone. I'm glad that he didn't; when he died he knew he was loved & would be loved forever.  But now he's gone.  I miss him so much; I don't even have the right words for it. I'm incomplete.  I push myself through every day, just going through the motions.  I still cry for him every single day, at least once.  I take the puppy to visit his parents every Sunday.  I don't even see my own family every weekend, but I make sure to see his.  They cared for the puppy while he was in the hospital and got really attached- he was the only bright spot for them at the time.  I feel so bad for them.  Within 3 yrs they lost both of their children.  I feel even worse for his mom.  His dad is sick with cancer & isn't going to recover, so his mom will have eventually lost everyone.  I feel better after going to see them.  They understand what I'm going through bc they miss him as much as I do.  They also saw how happy we were- since his family was more understanding than mine, we did more things with them.  They also saw the difference in him.  They had worried he'd never find live or be happy so they were happy when he did.  I feel like I've lost everything.  I had to file for bankruptcy and move out of our apartment.  Not only did I lose him but I lost our home, where I had such happy memories with him.  I had to move in with a friend until I get back on my feet.  I just feel so lost without him.  We were so happy, and not everyone gets to have that, but we did & now it's gone.  I don't know how to cope.  He had told me that I was his first love; his last love; his only true love.  I know I won't ever love anyone else the way I loved him & I know that there's no one else who could ever love me the way he loved me.  So I feel like I'll be alone & sad for the rest of my life.  I'm angry that there could have been a way to save him but no one would help him.  They say alcoholism is a disease, but yet they withheld potential treatment from him bc he had that disease. I understand why they wouldn't want to take a donor away from someone who is less likely to drink through it; but taking my liver wouldn't have taken anything away from anyone but me; & I feel that should've been my choice.  It's been almost 6 months & trying to get through this on my own isn't working.  That's why I decided to try an online support group.  I don't have anyone who really understands.