“It’s been six months since I took my last hit in a warehouse downtown, where I OD’d. I actually died that night.” I let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. “This is my last day in the facility, and I’m receiving my six-month sobriety chip tonight,” I paused, while everyone around me applauded.
“I can’t say this has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. This time it’s been different in every aspect. The first time I was in recovery for four years. Trying to find solid ground when everything was shaking around me. I got sober for my girl. I stayed sober for her. I went to therapy for her. I worked through my steps for her. I went to meetings, and talked to my sponsor, I did everything for her. Not me. I was a ticking time bomb during those four years, waiting to fucking explode. Until one day I did. Spiraling out of control.”
I peered around the room, gazing from the boys, to Alex, to my parents. Everyone who loved me was there, hearing my story for the first time.
Except, the one person who mattered.
The one person I wanted.
“In the end, I lost my girl. I hit rock bottom the day I figured that out. My therapist tells me that I have never been able to talk about my emotions, and that has been the cause of most of my problems. Here’s the thing, I’ve always wanted to fit in. With my family, with my friends, with the people that have always mattered the most to me. Never realizing that I was slowly causing my own demise. Tearing rifts between the people I loved. When you’re young, you think that you know everything, and that was one of my biggest downfalls,” I paused to let my words sink in.
My mom smiled and winked at me, giving me the courage to keep going.
“I’m scared every morning when I wake up. I have feelings, emotions, and memories that I struggle with on a daily basis. I’d self-medicated to numb the pain, to not feel anything anymore. Look at it this way, I was a human garbage disposal. Blaming my problems on everyone, but myself. I’m not proud of the things I’ve done. I’m more ashamed than anyone could possibly ever know. I’m learning to forgive myself. I’m learning to love myself. And for the first time I’m here, wanting to get better for me. I want it. I need it. I deserve it.”
Alex wiped a tear from her face, smiling at me.
“All I can do is take it one day at a time, and ask for help. Thank you,” I smiled, stepping off the podium.
Everyone stood up and applauded as I made my way down the aisle, toward my family and friends.
My mom was the first to hug me. “I am so proud of you, baby.”
My dad shook my hand. “You did good, son.”
“Bro, that was some deep shit,” Dylan praised, patting my back.
“You really did amazing, Austin. We’re very proud of you,” Aubrey added, pulling me into a hug.
Lucas, Jacob, and Lily were next. They all congratulated me, and headed to the refreshment table, leaving Alex and I alone. I pulled up a chair next to her, flipping it around to sit on it backwards.
“That was amazing. You’re an inspiration,” she stated, smiling.
“I didn’t sound like too much of a *, huh?” I laughed, trying to get a rise out of her.
“I always knew you were the strongest among the boys, Austin.” She nudged my shoulder.
“I don’t know about all that, Half-Pint. None of them are fucked up.”
“I do. To come back from everything you have been through, and admit your defeat. That takes more courage than anyone could ever imagine.”
“You sound like my therapist. I should just hire you, instead of paying out my ass for the one I have,” I said jokingly, making her laugh.
“I have something for you.” She reached into her bag, pulling out what looked like a book. “I met Briggs for lunch a few days ago. She’s doing great, Austin. She looks healthy and happy.”
I nodded. “That’s good to hear, Alex. Thanks for telling me.”
“That’s not all.”
I cocked my head to the side, arching an eyebrow.
“She told me everything.”
“Everything?” I replied, caught off guard.
“You protected her, Austin. From day one, she was all that ever mattered to you.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I guess she did tell you everything then. I’m going to tell them all eventually. My therapist and sponsor know already, but I’m not ready to remember all that yet.”
“I understand. You can tell everyone when you’re good and ready to. I won’t say a word. I promise.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling more at ease.
“Did you know that she liked to write?”
I took a deep breath in and slowly blew it out. I hadn’t really talked about Briggs with anyone other than my therapist.
“She loves to read, Half-Pint. I honestly think she’s read every romance book out there, twice. She loved living in the fantasies, experiencing what she never had. I knew she liked to journal and stuff. What’s this about?”
“After you took over for her uncle, she started writing one day. As things progressed with you over the years, she started writing down memories and her feelings. She said it was her way to cope with what was happening to you. It helped her, Austin.”