Page 54 of Misconduct Zone

Now it’s a test. The plan that had eluded me pops up fully formed.

I buy their largest bottle.

Lars

Something is very wrong. A foreboding sinks into my bones. I was so worried about how Dylon would react to my fears that I wasn’t paying attention to how stiff he was and that he didn’t kiss me back. Something’s haunting him or…

My therapist is right. Catastrophizing situations won’t prepare me for reality.

My energy should focus on what I can do, not what might happen.

I pace the apartment and try to distract myself with a book, video games, and sports TV. Nothing works but I cannot give in to the urge to run after him. He cannot change his life and stay with me all the time because I am terrified my past will repeat itself.

Dylon’s entitled to time and space to do whatever he wants, including helping someone in need. His sponsor is a critical part of his success in recovery.

My phone lies dormant in my palm, and no prayers to Norse gods get it to light up with a message from Dylon. I debate texting the guys to hang out, but everyone sounded like they had plans for the day, getting ready for our overseas trip tomorrow.

This is my issue, and I refuse to burden anyone else, especially Dylon, with my irrational fears. Knowing they’re irrational doesn’t lessen their impact or make them go away.

I turn my ringer on high and change to use the gym in our building.

Dylon

The bottle’s heavy. I’ve been carrying it for hours. I should get something to eat, but the bile has eaten away at my stomach and the thought of food makes it worse.

Every minute hurts.

Every minute without him.

Every minute without a drink.

My feet have blisters from walking, but I can’t stop. There’s nowhere to go. The sun’s low in the sky, and I follow the streets to Central Park. At this point, I could be mistaken for a vagrant. I left without a coat so I’m shivering in my hoodie.

I can’t make a decision that would wreck everything.

My phone’s open to my text thread with Lars. I want so badly for him to save me, but I have to do this on my own. I have to save myself. I’ll never be worthy of him if I can’t do it.

Lars

Still no word from Dylon after a long workout that Coach and the trainers would bench me for if they knew I pushed my body to the extreme and did it without a spotter. Physical pain steals the focus of my emotional pain.

Standing under the shower spray, I let the scalding water burn my skin and relax my muscles. I should soak in a hot bath or use the sauna after the amount of weight I forced my body to push and pull.

I am surprised at how reckless I am today. One slip and I could be out for the season or longer. Always thinking the worst in every situation, I cannot stop the thoughts from invading my head.

It’s been hours and I convince myself all I need is confirmation he’s okay. I will calm down when I know he’s eaten a good meal.

Me: Hey want to order a late dinner with me?

There’s no response so I order his favorite to have ready when he comes home. I turn on his favorite playlist while I pack for our trip. It doesn’t drown out the worry of wondering if he wants this to be his home. I should have asked him if he wanted to bring his furniture here. Helped to combine our things to make it ours, not mine. I overlooked the obvious. I did not make room for him and his things, frantically forcing him to fit into my sterile, bland life.

Dylon

My phone lights up with an incoming message, but it’s on silent as I stare at the bottle and the cup on the nightstand of the hotel room.

It’s ironic, my parents think I’m no fun when I don’t drink and hold the money I make over my head as if I’m too good for them now. But they can’t see the truth that, as an addict, if I drink, I’ll lose it all. And that is absolutely no fun. Fun is watching Lars react to my flirting, the way the blue in his eyes deepens and the corners of his mouth draw up.

I want things that might not be mine to keep.

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