Gareth
Chapter thirteen
It's still early in the night after Trey leaves, so after I've collected myself, I shower, slip back into my clothes, and walk to our old high school to my weekly AA meeting.
I haven't been coming since I started things with Trey because I don't know how much I'm ready to confess, yet. My sponsor, Tammy, has been checking in, though, so she knows I'm good.
After Trey ran out of the hotel room like his ass was on fire, this stupid, niggling hope has latched onto my heart like a leech and isn't letting me go.
Why would he have needed to bring up that boundary between us if he didn't also feel like this could be something more? I swear, he wasn't even looking at me when he said it, like he was saying it to himself.
That's crazy, though.
Right?
Then there was that traitorous kiss to my forehead. And such a simple, quick press of skin on skin gave that hopeful leech wings.
That’s a mental image.
I walk over to the folding table in the old gym of our high school, and I'm assaulted with memories - both good and bad - of my teenage years.
Hormones, BO, poor decisions. Maybe that's what high school is really for.
Not for learning algebra and running an eight-minute mile, but for making mistakes.
Being mean to your high school crush is a lot safer than being mean to your boss or coworker as an adult.
Misplaced anger and frustration should stay in high school. Honestly, no one really enjoyed their teenage years, did they?
I fill the sad styrofoam cup with the watered down coffee from the carafe and slide into the folding chair closest to the bleachers.
I nod a tense greeting to the others as they fill in.
The relationship I have with these people is strange.
I don't know what they do for a living, what their family looks like, what their dreams are, but I know their most shameful secrets, their daily struggles, and how badly their soul aches to heal.
And they know all of that about me, too.
Every meeting is the same as much as it's different. Some people don't share, others do. Some share little wins, some share failures. It's a way to be vulnerable during the hardest thing we've all ever done in a safe and non-judgmental environment.
Terry, a heavier, older man with the kindest eyes I've ever seen, is our leader. When the heavy doors close, signifying the beginning of our session, he smiles at all of us. I'm pretty sure he plays Santa at the local mall.
I listen, giving eye contact and respect to everyone who shares, even if I'm not actively listening. I smile at all the right times and nod when it's expected.
My head, however, is back in that hotel room, replaying soft touches, grunts, sighs, tongues, lips, and hands.
And the enormous wolf tattoo that spanned his entire back.
I hadn't seen it fully the first time we were together, but when he turned to collect his clothes tonight, I saw it.
It's a stunning work of art. Its black, geometric lines are also difficult to see on his bronze skin, but it was the eyes that stood out the most. They were almost an unearthly blue.
A shade you'd find just before the sun rose, or in the depths of the sea.
I don't know who his tattoo artist is, but holy shit, they're talented. The wolf's eyes looked alive - like they were actually peering into your soul.
And just as quickly as I saw it, he threw his shirt back on and hid it from me.
I want to get a better look next time.
"Gareth, anything you'd like to share this week?" Terry asks.
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.