Chapter 1
Why?
I’m an addict.
Sophia didn’t know this about me when we met—when I stole her heart.
I struggle every day with my sobriety, and Sophia is my compass. She’s what keeps me grounded and always points me in the right direction. She doesn’t nag or yell but smothers me in her love and understanding.
Sophia asked to hear my story, my past. She wanted to know everything about me…what led me to her. I gave her a condensed version—one that is closer to PG-13 than the NC-17 reality that I lived. No matter how much the person you love the most, the one who is the center of your universe, asks about your past, you never give the full truth. I never want Sophia to compare herself to any of the women or experiences I’ve had before her. Sophia is perfection in my eyes. No one could ever compare to her.
I’d like to say my life began again when I met Sophia, that I was given a clean slate. Sophia met me at the point in my life where I had given up on love. My life consisted of work and pleasure—pleasure from the unattached sexual relationships and the booze that had filled my nights.
When my life spiraled out of control, Sophia caught me in her web of security and love. She is my savior, the only thing that is true in my life. She can’t know my entire story. Who would want to know the true story of the love of their life, the father of their child?
The thought of Sophia being with another man makes my skin crawl and pisses me off. She’s mine, and I like to think that I’ve been the only man in her life and the first one to taste her, but I know I’m lying to myself. Ignorance is bliss, and I’d rather stay in the dark.
After our child was born, I thought it was necessary to get help to control my drinking. I needed to make sure I never walked down the path of self-destruction again. I had too much to lose. For the first time in my life, there was something more important than myself or even Sophia. There was a tiny little life that depended on me and needed my love and adoration.
I didn’t want to go to group counseling—I’ve done that before, and it sucked. It wasn’t more than a temporary fix. I needed something to get to the root of my addiction and allow me to find other ways to cope with the pressures in life besides the bottom of a bottle. The counselor told me to write down the major events in my life—the ones that caused my drinking to go out of control or drove me to drink. He said I needed to understand the cycle. What came first—the booze or the problems? He asked me to write a journal about my life. Everyone who I could remember that triggered my drinking or use of drugs and events which were caused by my addiction that had an impact on my life. I didn’t see the use in writing it for someone else to read and analyze, but he said I would understand it in time.
Where do I start the tangled mess that was my life? Do I start with my first taste of booze, the first sniff of coke, or the crazy bitches I’ve experienced? There will be bits that I leave out, things I don’t want the world to know. I’ve included the ones that show what has molded me into the man I am today. The ones that will fill in the gaps of my troubled journey. The ones that illustrate the magnitude of what Sophia and I overcame and show the depths of my depravity and addiction before Sophia walked into my life and turned my world upside down.
I’ll start at the beginning, what led me off the path of righteousness and continue through my moment of self-destruction and finally my salvation in the arms of a loving woman too good to be mine.
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