North & West

Twenty-Five

West and I were water, undiluted and clear, seemingly transparent but with more layers than let on. Water's taste couldn't be described and neither could West and I, not accurately at least.

When Melissa raised the glass to her lips, sipping a bit of the red wine that couldn't quite be pinned to what she'd been through, I found myself smiling when I realized I didn't feel the urge to crawl across the table and steal the glass from her grasp.

I could say no, not even bring myself near alcohol, and that was exactly what I was going to do.

Hazarding a glance at West, I saw him looking at her glass, too, as if he was thinking the same as I was. And then he turned to look at me, those dark eyes betraying nothing but the way he felt for me, clear on his face. I almost hoped my eyes displayed the same, showing what I couldn't always say, but then it occurred to me that maybe the mystery was half of the fun for him.

The more I looked at him, the boy I'd first met with the beat up jacket and scuffed boots – although those were still present – kept popping into my head, just as entrapped by a substance as I was and reminding me just how different things could get over the course of a year. It seemed surreal that we'd made it this far, months clean, able to glance away from a glass of wine when we'd probably have been triggered by the mere mention.

Nothing was perfect, but I'd found that the little victories were the ones I enjoyed the most.

                                                    ~~~~~~~~~~

West was the first called up, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans as he shuffled toward the wooden podium.

The man in charge of the week's meeting was standing beside the podum, a smile on his face as he held the coin in an outstretched palm. West took the coin, flipping the blue chip between his fingers, glancing down from the stage at me with a smile as if he wasn't just proud of himself, but of me, too.

The man called me up then, handing me a coin too. Krissy had talked to him at the last meeting she had attended, telling him she would be absent for a bit due to a break she was taking between her college semesters, and then she'd told him six months of sobriety was coming up for West and I.

It was odd, really, standing by the podium, just West and I then, both of our hands flipping the blue coin between our fingers as if touching it would help assure us that it was real – that this was real.

Just as we'd met, one night at a meeting, it seemed we had ended up at the same place. Except, this time, we were different and we'd changed.

I stepped in front of the podium first, beginning to speak as if the words needed to be said. Instead of talking about how I didn't see myself recovering, I began to talk about how I had.

“I'm North and this feels kind of surreal, you know?” I laughed, pausing to gather my words. “It was a lot of ups and downs. I think what threw me off the most was how much I just didn't care. My indifference. . . it was just so counterproductive, so unhelpful. I know this is only six months – not six years – but it sure feels like one hell of an achievement to me.”

Sharing my story felt good, even better because it was a success story. I had never envisioned myself beating this thing – the beast that had been inside of me, entirely of my own doing – but six months felt like something much longer than I had ever imagined. Hell, I hadn't even been sure if I was going to make it six days. Six hours had even been a struggle for me at one point.

I stepped away from the podium, having shared my story and letting West step up next.

He was silent for a few moments, seemingly caught in his own thoughts. “I'm West, and I-I'm an alcoholic. But I'm recovering,” He rushed to say the last bit, as if we weren't in a room full of people just like him, some even worse off. “I was unable to admit it at first. It took me so long to finally come to terms with the fact that I had a problem, one that wasn't just going to go away. I know that I'm the only one who can help myself in the end – I mean, I've got to want it – but I also know that it certainly doesn't hurt to have someone helping you along the way.”

He grabbed my hand and we headed back to our seats without another word, watching as a few more people headed up to the podium. It wasn't just West and I that had made it six months, and that made me feel slightly less alone. Almost like we were all a community of mess-ups, separate and fighting our own battles, but in the end, we all ended up together – either having fought the battle and won, or working on it and not succeeding quite as well as others.

After listening to a few others speak, I noticed West's fingers out of the corner of my eye, drumming against his thigh. I knew mine would soon, too, so I grabbed his hand and headed out of the door, careful not to disturb the others or draw attention away from the older woman speaking at the front.

It was like deja vu, leaning against the wall and smoking cigarettes. But it was a welcome thing, a reminder of our old selves, the ones who had struggled and the ones who had given up sometimes.

We needed a reminder if we didn't want to make the same mistakes.

It would never really go away, the temptation still ever present, but it could be curbed and curbed it would stay as long as we tried.

It may have only been six months, but I had a good feeling that we could last at least another six, and then maybe even six after that and then six after that and so on.

But now, we were just taking it one step at a time.

Those steps just happened to be synched and side by side.

[a/n: so this is the end and wow i'm so surprised because i never thought i'd finish nano, but i did with 56k plus words and wow. thank you all for the support so far. i should have something new up shortly. xo]