I can't tell if it's light or not: a case of stolen identity

I said it felt something like lunchtime, downstairs at a get-rich-quick conference.  There were too many men and the chicken was dry. We could blame death on life, if we needed an excuse for everything.  Just because things go wrong when he's a part of them, doesn't make him the culprit or a bad luck charm.  The fact is, I never should have come home at all. I still find myself witholding when necessary and fabricating when needed and I can't help but think that my biggest flub of them all has been burying my head in the sand.  Wishing the situation away while saying nothing is no different from telling lies.  And he isn't the only one I fail to tell the whole truth, but because I once swore to uphold his integrity, I've told no one of his strange requests.  If anyone knew, they might tell me what my logic has failed to say: he is draining the life out of me. It was a week after I met him when I was trying on old hats and furs at an antique shop and I decided who he was.  Since we were close in height and shared an identical personality when drinking, I assumed too much.  All along, he was shopping too.  He borrowed my vocabulary and another's musical library, then he scared me into thinking I was too mysterious.  The more he conned me into thinking I didn't give enough, the more I set out for him to steal.  It was a real mess, that one. When I first began to mistake red for green, I thought I was just tired.  Or, perhaps, I though, I had drunk too much the night before.  We consumed a lot of alcohol in those days.  I'd occasionally run a traffic light or wear mis-matched socks without knowing, but such things could be blamed on my absent-mindedness or preoccupation with a new romance. Had I known he was altering my vision, I might have done something to stop it.  Or would I have?  Eventually, when the color was drained from everything, I knew I had evidence that things had gone terribly wrong, but the darkness of those days took their toll.  Something about his sadness drew me to him and intoxicated me. If I had left for good, none of this ever would have happened. I continued to have my eyes checked. Everything was blurry. Colors were dull. I was left in the dark.