Page 21 of Be Your Somebody
“You hooked up with Giselle? Damn, dude, do youhavea death wish?” He shakes his head.
“I know thatnow. Anyway, Giselle practically jumped me in the front yard when I was walking her out and—"
“Avery saw, didn't she?”
With a quick nod, I continue. “She sure did. Giselle went crazy on her and said some awful things. I told her to leave before chasing after Avery to apologize for everything. Avery ended up saying some things that I can't get out of my head. I know you said your brother had some addiction issues, so I’m wondering if you could help me.”
“Sure. Lay it on me,” Asher says. That’s when I tell him about our conversation and how Avery is tired of me making promises, only to fall back into my old ways. Asher nods his head and lets me speak. It's refreshing to have someone just sit and listen without making assumptions or pretending they know what's best. After I finish talking, he silently stands there with a contemplative look. I grow more antsy, the silence ticking like a clock in my brain. I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.
“You know that’s some toxic shit, right? You hooked up with Giselle right after you knew Max and Avery weren’t a thing. If I were her, I wouldn’t give you the time of day. You’re lucky you were able to talk to her. Like, deal with your shit, man. And how you did it wasn’t the smartest way to go about it,” he says.
I lay my head in my hands, aggressively rubbing my face. “Yeah, I’m aware. Look, she wrote me this letter that tore me apart. I’ll admit Ifell back into my old addict habit of being selfish. I’m not saying it's right. I don’t want to do that anymore; I already messed up. I need to be better.”
“So with my brother, he would go in these patterns of making all these promises to be a better person and stop drinking and get sober. He would be good for a while before slipping back into old habits. It became very frustrating watching him repeat the cycle, and eventually, I learned to stop believing him when he said he would change. Honestly, I didn't trust him until his two-year sober anniversary. Sounds to me like Avery needs to learn to trust you again, and you need to show her,” he says.
I’m ready to argue, but Asher holds his hand up to stop me. “Don’t come at me with the ‘but I have proven to her she can trust me’bullshit because I assure you, you haven’t. I don't know everything about your relationship with Avery, but I know what it's like to watch someone in your life struggle with addiction. She just wants to know this time is different. Actions speak louder than words. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say that what you do and say are the same?” he asks.
I pause, giving myself a minute to think about it. Then it all comes flooding back to me. All the times I would go to her saying that I was finally getting sober and wanted to be her friend again, only to relapse days later. I missed all the crucial events because getting high was more important. All the time, I made drugs a priority over anyone else in my life. Including Avery.
“Shit,” I say.
“That's what I thought. Before you spiral into self-doubt, that's how the addicted brain works. You know that more than anyone. Avery needs to know she's a priority in your life, and I think she’s all talked out. The question to ask yourself is, what will you do about it? More importantly, is she important enough to youtodo something about it?” he asks.
“Of course she is. She’s the most important person to me in my life,” I reply.
“Then you have to work your ass off, man.” He shrugs.
“How do I even begin to do that? I keep trying to come up with ideas, but my mind draws a blank.”
He pauses, and his face looks like he’s solving a complex equation. He's quiet for a few minutes before speaking. “Emphasize to Avery how important she is to you. Find a way to remind her of the good times while showing her the friendship youcanhave. She needs to feel secure withyou instead of questioning everything. Find a way to give her that sense of security back, and you’ll have your friendship back, as well,” he says.
“How do I remind her of the friendship we used to have? That sounds impossible,” I express.
He shrugs before speaking. “Can’t tell you that, man. That’s something you have to do on your own.”
“Thanks.” I sip my water and focus on the coldness sliding down my throat.
“Ya know, you’re working on repairing your relationship with Avery, which is great, but what about you?” Asher asks.
My face wrinkles like a bulldog with how hard I’m frowning. “Me? What about me?”
“I mean exactly that. People who struggle with substance abuse can replace one addiction with another. I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to become addicted to her. You need to have your own identity, man. So, who is Cas?”
“I…” I pause.Who am I?I’ve only known the broken and the bruised. But what more is there to me? “I mean, well, I’m an addict. I guess that’s who I am.”
Asher shakes his head before putting down a glass he was cleaning. He leans his elbows on the bar and looks at me. “Nah. That isn’t who you are. It’s a part of you, but not all of you. What do you like to do? What makes you feel good? Me, I love reading. Nothing greater than getting out of our shitty world for a while. Stuff like that is what I’m asking.”
I’ve been an addict for so long that it takes me a moment to think about my passions. I close my eyes and try to free myself of every thought that comes into my head. I see a ten-year-old Cas holding a camera and sitting and listening to his grandfather teach him all the technical jargon. I think about how having that camera in my hands made me smile.
My eyes flutter open and I see Asher patiently waiting. “Photography. I love to take photos. When I got sober years ago, I worked in my grandfather's studio. I would assist him with lighting, prop staging, and setting up and removing his equipment. I loved doing it. Shit, I can’t remember the last time I thought about picking up my camera.”
“Maybe it’s time to do that again. Finding the balance between your passions and reconnecting with Avery, while challenging, might be necessary.”
“Damn, how do you know all this shit?” I chuckle.
Asher shrugs. “I’ve gone to therapy with my brother a time or two.”
We spend the rest of our evening just talking and hanging out in between customers. When I’m not talking to Asher, I’m avoiding all the eyes drilling holes into my back. I won’t give them the time of day, they don’t deserve it. I can’t recall when I ever had an actual, genuine male friendship. There’s something about Asher that puts me at ease. Despite my past and our history together, he doesn’t seem to see me as broken or defective. Maybe it’s time I start seeing myself differently.
