Page 17 of In Every Lifetime
Fai
Iknew this drive was going to be uncomfortable. I mean… our last extended interaction was our divorce proceedings. It was inevitable. But, I was hoping we would eventually warm up to each other.
Yet here we were, two hours in, still sitting in uncomfortable silence. Well… Sarah had a steady playlist of folk music playing, and the crunch of the gravel under the tires offered a steady beat. While not silent, the words left unspoken hung heavy between us. Like an anchor holding our ship in place, surrounded by unsteady waters as we waited for an eventual storm.
Both my therapist and Daniel, my sponsor, thought this trip could be good for me. I had spent hours talking through the logistics with each of them over the last few weeks. While they were supportive, and grateful I had someone to come with me… that someone being Sarah had made them apprehensive. My therapist had given me proper coping mechanisms to deal with any uncomfortable conversations. He, however, hadn't prepared me for uncomfortable silences.
We still had nine hours ahead of us. I was no stranger to quiet, and I had been known to brood, but I couldn't sit in this particular silence for one more minute.
“Did I tell you there’s no internet or service where we’re going?”
“You did. I brought a few books to pass the time,” she mumbled, her gaze focused out the passenger window on the expansive trees that lined the highway.
Sarah had her knees pulled up, lounging in the passenger seat with a knit blanket draped over her legs and her sneakers kicked off on the floor. She was wearing an old college sweatshirt, the hems of the sleeves fraying at the edges. She was so very…her.
Sarah was beautiful in whatever she wore, but she was most herself when laid back and at ease. In her moments of peace and calm, she blossomed.
It was her calm, her peace that had drawn me to her and kept me always wanting more. My mind, my life, had always been a chaotic mess, never stopping and never ending. It’s why I drank, to numb, to make it stop. To make the world around me—that felt too fast—slow down for a time.
Sarah’s presence in my life was a better drug than anything else. She didn’t numb the world around me, she didn’t slow my racing thoughts that didn’t seem to have any brakes, she didn’t make the chaos disappear. She gave me a safe place to land, to rest and reset before I faced it all again.
She gave me a home away from the madness that was my own mind.
“Why did he move out there? Or did your mom move him out there?” Sarah asked as she turned down the radio.
“I’m not actually sure. I guess I’ll add that to my ever-growing list of questions I have for him.” My hands tightened around the wheel, thinking about all the answers he might hold. “I still can’t quite believe he’s real.”
Her head rolled along the headrest, her gaze shifting to me “Do you think he looks like you?”
I laughed softly. “Is that what you’re most curious about?”
She nodded with a smile, one that hit me straight in the heart. “Come on, don’t you want to know? I mean, you must have lucked out on the gene pool. He’ll be your answer if it was your mom or dad who made it so easy for you to have abs.”
“Maybe I just work out. Ever thought about that?” I challenged with a smirk.
She shrugged. “When I first saw them, duh, of course I thought that. Then I lived with you for fifteen years and watched what you ate and how winded you got when working out. It’s gotta be genetics.”
I rolled my eyes and held back a smile. “You’re just jealous.”
“Obviously,” she agreed. “I mean look at you. Who wouldn’t be?”
I laughed harder. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were hitting on me. But you’re far too honest and way too bad at flirting for that.”
She smiled knowingly, her eyes glowing with humor, and looked me up and down. “We both know attraction was never the issue in our marriage.”
It was meant to be a joke, but it was a reminder of the truth of our situation ramming into my heart with a crash. For just a moment, I had almost forgotten how bad things had gotten between us, how dark my life had become. For just a moment, it had been Sarah and me the way we were supposed to be. Together.
“Sorry.” Her voice was quiet. I glanced at her, seeing her gaze full of remorse. It wasn’t her intention to hurt me. I don’t think she could purposefully hurt anyone. She was far too good for this world. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
“You didn’t,” I said quickly, not wanting her to think for one more moment that it was her fault. That any of this was her fault. “It’s the truth. Our marriage fell apart because of me.”
Sarah shook her head emphatically, her brows drawn together. “You weren’t the problem. Your drinking was, yes. But you, Fai, as a person didn’t cause this.”
“I made the choice to drink again… and again… and again,” I muttered.
“Yes, there is a level of responsibility every addict bears for their choices that lead them to their vice of choice, and yes, it was your choice to drink again… but that doesn’t mean you meant to cause the repercussions and consequences,” she mused, her gaze turning to the road in front of us as she spoke. “Everyone who’s lived with an addict has a different experience, but in my lived experience… you didn’t necessarily choose to drink each time. It was almost like you fell into it, remembering an old bad habit that would make life easier for just a moment. Addiction is more complicated than most realize. They think it’s a choice to fall into it and a choice to step away. But it’s far more complicated. As with most things in life.”
“Could you tell? Each time I relapsed?” In those moments I had always believed I was hiding it well, with the particular confidence of someone who was certain they didn't have a problem.
