Page 57 of This Time Around
Over the course of the next month, my life took on a dream-like state. I’m not talking nightmares; I mean the kind of perfect fantasyland where you want to stay forever. I started a dream project of rehabbing an old, mysterious home, nearly completed the apartment renovations for the Miracle twins, and fell deeper in love with Milo every single day.
As a horny teen, I was enthralled with all the physical things I liked about Milo. As an adult, our sexual chemistry burned hotter because I appreciated all the other aspects of his personality a lot more. I couldn’t imagine a day without him zinging me or making snarky comments about something. I didn’t want to spend a night that didn’t include long, hot kisses and me wrapped around him while we slept. How had I lived fourteen years without him? The truth? I hadn’t truly known what I lost until we reclaimed one another. He was the cinnamon in my French toast, the chipotle in my barbecue sauce, and the 7UP in my Captain Morgan—well, fruit punch these days. He was sparkly, sweet, spicy, and that extra something that made the ordinary extraordinary.
Everything was as it should be with one exception—Ollie. Things felt awkward between us since the bowling night, and I wasn’t sure how to fix things, or even if I should. As the weeks passed, he seemed a little friendlier, but not the way he was before he met Milo. I suspected Ollie hadn’t realized how serious I was about my boyfriend until he saw us interact together. Hurting my friend was never part of my plan, but he needed to know that Milo was it for me. I hated the rift between us, but I thought it was best to let things go. If our friendship was meant to be, we’d find a way to work it out.
“Pastor Ollie,” Rebecca, a new member, said, “why do you hold weekly meetings?”
“Well, it’s kind of like how people attend church every week. They do it to remind themselves of God’s love, to feel refreshed and renewed, and to connect with people who think like them so that they don’t feel alone,” Ollie replied. “By coming to NA meetings each week, you meet with people who share your same struggles. They inspire, encourage, and lift you up when you need it. Now, some people have lived with their addiction longer and choose to meet bi-weekly or even monthly, which is fine. I’ve established a flexible program within the guidelines to meet a variety of needs. For those who are newly sober, I strongly recommend you attend as often as you can.”
“Thank you, Pastor Ollie.” She bit her lip nervously and looked down at her feet.
“You can just call me Ollie or Oliver if it makes you feel more comfortable,” he said kindly. “I’m not here to convert any of you to religion, and I’m not here to judge you. I simply want to help you stay sober.” He smiled when he looked around the room, but I noticed he didn’t meet my eyes. “Who wants to go first this week?”
“I do,” I said. Ollie looked surprised that I spoke up. I couldn’t blame him since I never volunteered to speak first. “My name is Andy, and I’ve been sober for thirteen years now.”
“Hello, Andy,” they all said.
“What’s going on with you this week?” Ollie asked. His tone was friendly, but his eyes lacked the warmth I was used to seeing.
“Nothing has changed since last week. I’m still working on the same projects, still in love with the same guy, and I feel happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Then why are you still coming?” Keeton asked. He was also attending for the first time. “If everything is so perfect, why come here? To brag and make us feel worse about ourselves?”
“Not at all, my friend.”
“We’re not friends,” Keeton fired back.
“I’m not your enemy either, pal,” I said peacefully. “I come here for the reasons Ollie mentioned. I’ve made lifelong friends who share this journey with me.” I nodded to Adam, Tyler, Brent, and Ollie. “We’ve formed a tribe, if you will, and I’m stronger with them than without.”
“Goodie for you,” the younger guy said sullenly.
“Even when I’m feeling at my strongest, I show up because others might need to pull from that strength just like I did from them during some of my most difficult times. That’s what we do here.”
“That’s nice. I could really use that in my life right now,” Rebecca said softly, earning a glare from Keeton.
“We all can,” Adam told her then winked at me. “Always got your back, Boo.”
I smiled when I thought about Milo calling Adam, Brent, and Tyler the frat boys. They did come across as rowdy guys out for a good time, but they were incredibly smart men with careers that no one would have picked for them judging by their appearances. By day, they were an engineer, doctor, and CFO; by night they were jokesters who wore their ball caps backwards and said silly things like calling me Boo. Half the time I thought they did it to tease me, but maybe it’s how they balanced their stressful careers. On the surface, we appeared to have nothing in common, but beneath the skin we were very similar. Each of us got involved with drugs during our college years for various reasons, and we wanted to live clean, happy lives.
“One of the reasons I think Ollie’s meetings work so well is that they’re geared to us in the rainbow community. We can sit and discuss the problems that every single one of us has dealt with. I can mention that I have a boyfriend and not worry that I’m going to be harassed for it.”
“Dude, you’re built like Johnny Fucking Bravo. No one is going to mess with you,” Keeton said hostilely.
“You think that all threats come in the form of a physical attack?” I asked Keeton. “People don’t have to be able to kick your ass to get you fired. Cyber bullies are every bit as threatening, maybe more so, than a physical threat because they can hide behind their computer screen. Sometimes the bullying comes from someone you love, and it’s delivered in a way that makes you think that person is doing you a favor.”
“Huh? Dude, you lost me.”
“College baseball scouts started looking at me when I was only a freshman in high school. In addition to the school team, I played in a competitive traveling league that helped get my name out since scouts probably had never heard of Blissville High School. Rumors began circulating during my sophomore year that I could have my pick of colleges.”
“You must’ve been really good,” Keeton said, sounding a little more interested.
“I thought I was exceptional because that’s what everyone told me,” I said wryly. “Especially my high school coach, who expressed on numerous occasions that he only wanted what was best for me. I believed him too. I had no reason to doubt Coach when he suggested that I delete my social media accounts because they could be used against me when a school made a final decision on a scholarship. I thought he meant my grammar was shitty or something.” The other members in the group chuckled, but not Keeton. He knew where this was going.
“Yeah, what he truly meant was that he didn’t want the scouts to see that I was openly gay. It was something I had never tried to hide. Milo often came with my family when I traveled for games. He was my prom date for both my junior and senior years. It never occurred to me just how hateful the world could be. I was naïve to say the least.”
“Did you do what the coach said?” Rebecca asked.
“I did. I was so excited about the possibility of playing ball for a Division I school that I didn’t think through my actions. I didn’t realize how much I hurt the person I loved. Milo stayed silent about his feelings because he wanted what was best for me and wanted to make me happy. Coach took me aside before graduation and told me that it would be best for me not to let on to my team that I was gay. He recommended that I get a feel for their attitude before I let them know. He worried that it would impact their acceptance of me, and my playing time.”