I wipe my hands down the tops of my thighs, my coffee is cold and on the ground next to my chair.
I know what he's asking. And I know what I should admit. Addiction is a tricky mistress. It's not only the lowest of the lows that can have us reaching for a bottle, but the highs too. Some call it HALT plus E, meaning our triggers are Hunger, Anger, Loneliness, Tiredness, but also being Elated.
Your brain gets overwhelmed with happy chemicals, and it's so close to what it feels like to be drunk or high that your brain craves alcohol to extend or prolong the high emotions.
It's a vicious circle.
You swear to yourself you'll quit today. That yesterday was your last drink.
Then something triggers you, you drink, a lying voice in the back of your head convinces you that it's okay, just this one time, and you wake up the next morning with a hangover and a boatload of shame. Betraying a friend is terrible. Betraying yourself? Night after night, you lie to yourself, betray yourself, and in the morning realize that you're not worth even being honest with yourself.
I hadn't told them about our first dinner, even though that's step eight - making amends to people we've harmed. It's part of helping us release some of our shame.
"I- I went to dinner with someone I harmed in high school a few weeks ago. He accepted my apology... so that was nice," I'm stalling, hedging, and Terry's soft smile makes me feel like an asshole for it. I quickly gaze around at the people in our circle - all walks of life, all different struggles, and all brave enough to share.
"We've kind of started dating..."
Terry's smile wavers just slightly, and I know what he's thinking. New romantic feelings are especially considered high-risk events in AA. There’s a risk of someone newly sober to replace an addiction to substances with an addiction to a person or the excitement of a new relationship. The unknown can feel a lot like gambling.
Did I crave a drink tonight after my time with Trey? Of course, I did. I could have easily swung by the hotel bar on the way home, and no one would have known. I could've gotten drunk, taken an Uber home, and fallen asleep alone.
So, I hurry to ease Terry's concern. "I didn't drink. And we're taking it slow."
A million words want to spill from my mouth. Like how mean I was to him in high school, how I've always been attracted to him, how he makes me feel unlike anyone else, how good he always smells, how it's a business arrangement that I really want to turn into more. But I hold it all back.
"Are you sticking to your tools?" Terry asks. My tools are coping mechanisms I can reach for when I'm having a craving. And preventative measures. Working out, breathing exercises, a sponsor's number if I'm ever feeling lonely, and herbal supplements for when I'm stressed.
"Yep. He knows about my sobriety, too, and doesn't drink when we're together."
Terry seems appeased by this.
"It feels like a positive step forward. And I'm leading with honesty." This step is all about self-forgiveness, and that starts with being honest, even when it would be much easier to lie or lie by omission. It's about taking accountability for yourself and your actions and living in alignment with your own morals and values.
I've learned more about living and being a man from AA than I ever did from my parents or so-called friends. As I grew older, I heard the term 'fair-weather friend' and realized that's all I've ever had. That's all I have right now. My co-workers are 'friends' because they don't know I'm gay, and because we never talk about anything that really matters.
"Only you can know if you're ready for a relationship. You've been sober long enough to be honest about a lot of things. As long as you're being honest about this, too, and taking precautions, I have faith in you. And, I know you know, but we're only a phone call away."
I give him a smile back and nod. I check in with myself, and yeah. I was honest with Trey tonight. If I can't be with him, I'd want to be with someone just like him. Someone I feel safe with, someone with a calming energy, someone who makes me feel good about who I am as a man.
The only problem with finding someone else… is that I'm still fully in the closet.
Chapter fourteen
Gareth
The doorbell rings, and I freeze. No one rings the doorbell. I set the dirty dish back into the sink and dry my hands on a towel. Maybe it's the building super needing something from me.
I open the door, and my jaw drops when I see Trey standing there, wearing basketball shorts and a tight, fitted t-shirt. Even dressed casually, he looks like he just stepped out of a magazine. The black t-shirt straining against his biceps; the contrast against his caramel skin is delicious.
I'm too busy drooling over this mountain of a man to notice him thrust his hand out towards me until it opens, revealing my phone.
"Oh," I say stupidly.
"You left it at the hotel," he answers as if it isn't obvious.
"But how..."
"They obviously couldn't call you to tell you, and you added my name and phone number to the reservation. Smart, by the way, so they gave me your address" he replies, shoving his fists into his pockets after I take the phone from him.