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I just reiterated that I had no interest in holding them up as we trudged home from a party; hell, I don’t even want to go to parties.Fortunately, they were down for my two favorite hobbies: Watching documentaries and doing jigsaw puzzles. True Hollywood Story of Yours Truly, they listened actively and deeply.Every day at work, I waited until I clocked out to start the futile pursuit of drowning my demons.
If anything, I still get a little nauseous from the smell of booze.They were also acknowledging my preceding journey: Years of therapy, dismantling a relationship, and white-knuckled sobriety that left me questioning my existence at times.Finally, it was an acknowledgment of the present: Sitting on the back steps of a 100-year-old duplex on a humid July evening, openly queer, La Croix in hand, the cicadas humming along to the beginning of a wild and new love story.The thought of leading a life quarantined to a five-mile radius of my house literally made me want to die.My dad was formerly addicted to heroin, and he got sober on his own with a kilo of the drug in his freezer. If I meet someone new, I don’t want to tell them why I’m sober right away because the truth is deeply, painfully personal.