I wanted so badly to find a drink, but she told me the next time I felt an urge, to call. No questions asked.
I am expected to put my life in her hands, it feels like. I do not want to put my trust in someone that could walk away. It is easier to be alone because I know when and how I’ll fail. It is easy to only have to report to yourself.
She is tough. We just met, but she insists. Call me. No questions asked.
My mind is swimming in doubt. Tough waves knocking me back over and over again.
“You cannot do this.”
The light is so faint I barely see it. In the cold, dark pit of my addiction there is a tiny opening with a hand reaching down for me. She said she’d be there and she was.
When she answers the phone, I am choking back the anguish that wants to pour from my body.
She waits until I am ready to talk.