Addiction, lighthouse, show me the shore

I know of a marriage that is sadly on the rocks. The waves are crashing higher washing what little amount of sand that is left, away. The lighthouse that once could be seen from far away has grown dim. The original flame lowered from the coldness of the wind. Two people there, one on the shore, one on the sea. The one is standing, struggling to see, if the one tossed to and fro is even still trying to row. Toward the harbour of safety where the wind cannot toss. To the light growing brighter as the distance is lost. She continues to move up the sharp, rough terrain. Glancing back occasionally for him who is bobbing on the wake. Moving farther and farther away from the haven. It becomes more difficult for the one to be seen. She shifts her weight and on toes to see. It is all in vain for he is lost at sea. The sea of addiction that once was a bright boat. It carried him out, just far enough to float. Not touching the ground, once out he tried to reach down. Too far to feel the bottom. Too far to swim back. The anchor had been dropped down far below. Points dug in deep his arms were too weak. She called out his name proclaiming her love. With the force of the water and the crash of the wave. Words could not be carried as he struggled alone. One last step up to the final rock. The view was not different even up at the top. She knew where her feet needed to stay. Away from the knocking and motion of the sea. No longer could she see the object she loved. He had ridden too far now the boat had lost it's tug. Left to be tossed around and about. Left to decide if to fight or stay out. Reach him, yes, she would go if she could, but the passenger is trapped by the anchor down below. He must choose to cut loose and swim to the boat. Even if he is weak he simply can float to a wide open space, where the captain can see someone needs help.