Lexa's POV
I sit on the brown cotton couch, fiddling with a stray thread. The same thread I always played with for a few years now. My therapist, Dr Granger, knows every neuron of my mind. I'm nervous. I woke up with a bit of anxiety. I cant quite pinpoint what I'm afraid of. I have been struggling with intimacy lately. Lately. HA. It's something I've struggled with my entire life. But between all the work I have done with my sponsor, the work I put in every day, and my therapist, the fear has decreased significantly.
I'm an alcoholic and an addict. To me, they're the same thing. To someone who isn't like me, clarification usually is needed. Once I start drinking and using, I can't stop. And when something would stop me, I would start again, no matter how much time had gone by or what was at stake. No matter how much I didn't want to. I always did it anyway. That's the nature of the beast. A disease of the mind. They even call it a mental illness now a days. They're right. Addiction is insanity. Repeating the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result; the story of my life. Having no control, no choice, no power. Most people don't realize that, that people like me are powerless. They always think we're just choosing to destroy ourselves and everyone around us. Are people like me selfish? Absolutely. An argument could be made that we're probably some of the most selfish people in existence, even when we're not using. But we have no control. We use even when we don't want to. I've held pills in my hand, screamed no to myself, dreading them going into my body, and I still swallowed them down. I had no will power; I still don't. But I'm rambling now. Let's get back to it.
For a long time, I didn't see abusing a substance as a problem. My parents are like me. I grew up with them throwing parties, witnessing them shooting up, smoking crack, guzzling beer; I had witnessed it all. I took care of my mother. She was the child and I was the mom. My father was gone for years of my life. My parents divorced when I was six and my mother got full custody. So I barely saw him. But chaos was in my life since I was brought into this world. I never realized everything around me wasn't "normal" until I ventured out in the world.
I've gone through trauma, all kinds of abuse and neglect. So my fear of intimacy with another human being, any kind of intimacy, is almost a given. But I've been sober over five years now and a lot of the walls I've put up have crashed down.
My AA sponsor was the first person I met in a very long time that I instinctively trusted. I looked into her eyes and she smiled at me with such love, care and understanding. That was all it took. I remember she grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently in a comforting manner. I knew in my soul that this woman was supposed to be a part of my life and I was supposed to be a part of hers. I became a blubbering idiot when I spoke to her. All my pain, my anger, my deep dark secrets, rushed out of my mouth in her presence. I told her everything. I let her see the person I really am. I bared my broken pieces to her and she gathered them up like a mother picking up their child in a loving embrace. Even when I've resisted, even when I've convinced myself I can't tell her things because she'll finally see the monster I am and run, I've told her eventually. And every time she smiles at me and says, "Thank you and I love you more for being honest with me."
True intimacy is what I experienced with her. I still experience it with her. She was the first person to get to me since I was a small child. The first one I allowed in my heart after years of dark and icy isolation. She knew me before I said a word. And she loved me unconditionally before she knew me.
Intimacy with my sponsor is almost second nature now. I still get afraid. I still sometimes convince myself that if I tell her things she'll be disappointed or that she'll be disgusted with me and hate me, or leave me. It never fails though. She always thanks me and tells me she loves me more. Then she calls me out on my shit and gives suggestions on how to move forward with whatever it is I bring to her. And I take it all willingly, even if I don't like it. I listen to her. Which is huge for me. I never listened to anyone, ever. Everything she does, she does out of love and to help me because she cares about me and my life. I feel safe with her. I trust her. The love I have for her is like no other because the relationship a sponsor and sponsee share is so uniquely glorious. A sponsor is like a spiritual mother and guide. That relationship is a friendship that's like no other. You'll only truly understand it if you have that kind of relationship. She put my hand in God's hand. I'll be eternally grateful. It's a debt I can never repay. A debt she never expects payment for. It's the same thing I do for others now, and I understand it from the other side. There's a special love and bond that's shared between addicts and alcoholics. When you sponsor someone and do your best to put their hand in God's hand, you're witnessing a miracle take place. You get to be a part of a miracle. There's no payment necessary or wanted.
I've gained intimacy with friends as well. I was completely determined to not have any when I first got sober. I'm a lesbian. It's a small part of who I am, but it's a big part of why I didn't want friends. Most of my friends growing up were men. Women scared me. I only talked to a woman if I liked her or wanted something from her. When I started dating women, I got angry. My relationships with women would fall apart and I always viewed it as their fault. They were the ones who lied, cheated and caused harm. I was a gentlewoman. I maybe did like two things wrong in all of my sexual relationships. Clearly, I was full of myself and I couldn't see the truth.
As I was going through my steps, I was forced into friendly relationships with women. I would refuse to talk at all. When I started talking, it was never about anything serious or vulnerable. These women I was around, even though I wasn't attracted to them or wanted anything from them, made me nervous. I had a false belief system; that all women only wanted to use me and hurt me. Maybe I believed that because of my mother and our relationship. Maybe I believed it because it's all I ever did to other women. Maybe it was both. In any case, it's what I believed. But the further along I got in my step work, the more I let my guard down. Today, the friends I have are my sisters, they're my family, and I have no fucking idea what I would do without them. Now I can have intimacy with friends, male and female.
I've had a few relationships in sobriety. Let's just say, they were not healthy. There was lying, cheating, manipulation, break ups and getting back together. There were secrets, betrayal, a plethora of broken trust and issues from both sides. I've learned a lot from those relationships. But now I find the idea of that kind of relationship repulsing to a certain extent.
Don't get me wrong, I want true unconditional love with a partner. A part of me craves it. To have a woman by your side who wants and desires the person you are, who caresses and kisses all your broken parts, who is your friend and lovingly calls you out on your bullshit, who holds you close to comfort you while you cry and allows you to do the same for her, and is always your equal, never better, never worse; I dream of having that kind of relationship. But I don't feel safe with the idea either.
My last relationship, I was with the same woman on and off for about three years. There were good times. We were in love once. There was attraction and desire. But I wasn't happy. I don't believe she was either. I opened up to her more than I have with a woman in that kind of relationship. I decided that I was going to marry her, that I was going to live and die by that woman. Even though I didn't really want it. Even though I was also in love with someone else at the same time. Even though we had cheated on each other, lied to one another, hid things from each other and betrayed each other. But God did me a solid. I found out she had been drinking for months and she didn't want to be sober. So I left. It wasn't even a thought to stay. And I'm grateful for that.
Now, I don't believe God made her relapse. I don't believe shit works that way. I do believe God had me move in with her to see the truth. You see, I had been praying to God to remove whatever was blocking me from Him. I couldn't see it then, but that relationship was in my way. Her and I had learned what we could from each other, and it was time to let go.
The fact that I left right away, right after she told me, was huge for me. My entire life, I would never walk away from a woman. Between my codependency and the belief that no one else could ever love me, I would stay no matter what. But I want God above all things now, and sobriety comes right under that. She was threatening both those things. And poof, I left just like that.
I've been single over a year now. That might not sound like a lot to some, but it's been long for me. I've never been sober and single this long. I've barely even flirted with women. It's happened, absolutely. Once my heart was healed and had let go of my ex, I started putting myself out there. And another weird thing is happening. I've talked to a few women, but as soon as they start playing games, I cut it off. I've never done that in my life either. Chasing someone and trying to prove I could get them to love me, want me, need me, above anyone else use to be one of my favorite things in the entire world. It was a way I tired to prove to myself and everyone else that I was worthy and adequate. I don't want to do it anymore. Here's the bad side to that though. The few times I've started talking to a woman and that's happened, now I tell myself that all women aren't safe to be with in that manner. The mind can be a really fucked up thing. At least, my mind is. It's always trying to fuck me up and kill me.
I hear the door open and I look up. As the door clicks behind Dr Granger, I take her in. She's older, in her fifties. She has some wrinkles on her face from smiling too much, but that's a beautiful thing to me. Her orange-red hair is in a messy bun, as usual. She clings her notebook to her chest and she sit across from me in a giant brown chair. Placing the book in her lap, she looks me in the eyes and smiles. I smile back whole heartedly. She has a warm, motherly smile. It always fills me up with joy. Dr Grange pushes her black rimmed glasses up her nose and clears her throat before speaking. "How are you?"
"I'm alright," I say as I shrug my shoulders. "There's nothing bad going on in my life. I'm just a bit anxious today."
"Why?"
"I… I'm not really sure," I look away from her to gather my thoughts. When my eyes land on her again, I take a deep breath before speaking. "I'm afraid of women. Not as a whole. I mean, uh, I'm afraid to date."
Her brows furrow momentarily. "Are you speaking with someone?"
"No, not right now."
"Then why are you afraid?"
"Well I…" Another deep breath goes down my throat. I'm just as confused by my statement as she is. "I'm interested in someone."
"Oh?" She quips happily.
"Stop, don't give me that look," I roll my eyes. "I barely know her. I've seen her the past month at a meeting I've been speaking at."
"Have you spoken?"
"Not really. She comes up and thanks me after the meeting is over. I try not to look at her, but my eyes always end up on her before and after the meeting. When I do look, she's already staring at me most of the time."
"So why haven't you spoken to her?" the doctor asks me. The look she's giving me is almost screaming at me, calling me an idiot.
"I'm afraid," weasels it's way out of my mouth. "She's stunning. She's physically attractive, but that's not what I mean when I say she's stunning. The few times I've watched her interacting with others, she's always just… listening, intently. Like she cares about everything she's being told. She patiently waits to hear everything someone says and then does everything she can to help them if they need it. I can feel God just oozing off her. She seems so gentle and kind. Her entire aura captivates me."
"So you're watching her from afar?"
"When you say it like that, I sound like a stalker."
"Are you following her around and learning all her habits and routines?"
"What?! NO!" I shout in disbelief. It takes me a moment to see the humor on her face. I roll my eyes again. "That's not cool Dr Granger."
"It was a serious question mixed with some humor," she giggles lightly. "But if you're not doing those things, you're not stalking her. You're intrigued, interested. There's nothing wrong with that. Try and have a conversation with her."
"We spoke a little last night."
"And?"
"Well, I was outside after the meeting. She walked up to me and introduced herself. Her smile melted me. And when we shook hands it shocked me in a way. I introduced myself and she busted my balls. She said I've only been listening to you for a month now."
"Did that bother you?"
"No," I stared off in thought for a moment. "It wasn't meant in a mean way. I could feel that. Come on, we both know I'm sensitive, but I'm not that sensitive….. not anymore." The doctor almost laughs at me again. "I told her that I wanted to formally introduce myself and she just smiled wider at me. Before the conversation could go any further, her phone rang. She said it was her sponsee calling and that she would love to continue our conversation next week."
"How do you feel about all of that?"
"Excited. Nervous. Afraid."
"What are you afraid of?"
When the answer pops up, I get annoyed with myself. It's something that's interfered with my life, time and time again. Dr Granger notices my changed demeanor and waits patiently for me to answer. "I'm afraid she'll get to know me, see who I really am and reject me. And then I'll be hurt."
"Come on Lexa," the doctor says as she rolls her eyes. "You need to stop. When are you going to find acceptance for yourself?"
"I do accept myself," I blurt out, agitated. "I just don't love myself as much as I should, I guess. I love myself and I accept myself, but I don't love everything about me."
"Lexa, what does your sponsor say?" I hate it when she asks me that. Dr Granger is in recovery; it's how I met her in the first place.
"She told me to pray and talk to God about it, meditate, do estimable acts, do self-care and to go help somebody. She also said that there's clearly something I'm not willing to let go off when it comes to feeling inadequate. I've worked on it with you, I've done millions of inventories on it with her, and it's still there."
"Why do you think you're holding on to it?"
"Besides the fact that I believe it's true?" I bit at her. I automatically felt bad; how I feel isn't her fault. "I apologize. I have no right to speak to you that way."
She gave me another warm, motherly smile. "I forgive you. Please, continue."
"I feel like I believe it's a part of who I am. That I am just inadequate. I've had that in me for so long. I don't even know how to start and let it go."
Dr Granger sighs and drops her notebook on to the floor. "Listen Lexa, I've been meaning to tell you, I don't think you need to come here anymore."
"What?' I ask in shock. "Why?" I can hear the hurt in my voice, and I bet it's written all over my face.
"Sweetheart, you don't need it anymore," she begins soothingly. "You've been coming here for a few years. We've worked on all your trauma. I can't offer you anything anymore. I've done my part. I've done all I can as a therapist. This last thing you're struggling with is only going to get resolved between you and God. I love you and I'm always here for you. And now we can be friends, sober sisters."
"I thought we already were friends," I say dejectedly.
"Stop it," she says as she gets up. "We can be real friends now. You can come to my fourth of July barbeque."
"Really?!" the excitement in my voice mimics a child being told they can have ice cream. I stand up and she hugs me. I hug her back. "Does this mean I can go to your awesome homegroup now?"
Dr Granger laughs at me as she pulls away. "Yes, it does."
"Alright, then I accept your terms."
"Like you had a choice," she says as she lightly smacks my arm.
"Abuse!" I shout teasingly. She smacks me again and we both laugh.
I open her office door and walk out into the small waiting room. I look up from my feet and I stop dead in my tracks. There's a receptionist's desk and the woman I was just talking about is hovering over it, doing something on the computer. Her shoulder length blonde hair is slightly falling in her face as she bites her lip in concentration. I begin to hold my breath and my shoulders tense. I guess she feels the new bodies in the room because she looks up. Piercing blue eyes are staring in to mine with surprise and intrigue, maybe even some delight. Her lips curl into a half smile as she takes me in, causing me clench and unclench my fingers.
"Well hello, Lexa," Clarke says to me. Her eyes look at the doctor behind me and her smile changes from teasing to loving. "Hey Auntie."
"You two know each other?" Dr Granger asks as she walks by me and stands next to the goddess in front of me.
"Yeah, I've been going to the meeting she's speaking at for the past month. She's doing a step series. I'd say you should come because it's fucking awesome, but you won't if she's a patient."
"Actually, she's no longer my patient," the doctor says as she walks behind Clarke to the other side of the desk. "Today was our last session. She doesn't need me anymore."
"Lies. She's kicking me out," I say sarcastically.
"That's cold Aunt Vic," the goddess says, jumping on to my humor.
"Yes, well, you can only listen to someone cry about their mother so many times," Dr Granger says, causing my mouth to drop. "What? Too soon?"
"No," I say as I laugh and smile. "I'm just shocked."
"Like I said, we can be friends now."
"Get ready to be reamed out," Clarke says, looking me dead in the eyes once more.
"Oh, she's already been doing it. I can't imagine it getting much worse."
"Trust me, it gets worse. Hey!" she lightly shouts as the doctor playfully slaps her arm.
"You're my niece," the doctor starts, "She's my friend. How I speak to you is not like how I speak to everyone else."
"I know. It doesn't mean you don't rip people new assholes. I see and hear you with other people. You're a savage," the goddess jokes, maintaining eye contact with me the entire time.
"I'm trying to tell you, she's been doing it to me this entire time," my smile widens. "I wouldn't have it any other way. I need more than one person calling me out on my asshole tendencies and telling me the truth."
I guess Clarke and I stood in silence staring at each other, because Dr Granger loudly clears her throat, catching our attention. "Do you want me to marry the two of you now or what?"
"Aunt Vic!" Clarke slaps her Aunt's arm again. She laughs but her cheeks are tinging red. I can feel my face on fire. I'm still staring at the woman in front of me though; I can't take my eyes off her.
"Well, you can stare more on Thursday. I invited Lexa to our annual barbeque," Dr Granger says while she's staring Clarke down with a look I can't quite identify. Its intrigue mixed with a warning maybe.
"That's exciting," the blonde looks at me again, smiling brightly.
"Alright, well, I'm gonna go now," I blurt out, feeling awkward from the look the doctor is giving me and her niece.
"Wait!" Clarke shouts as she grabs my arm to stop me from leaving, starling both me and the doctor. "What are you doing now?"
I stare at her again, this time in bewilderment. I can't believe she's asking if I'm busy. And I'm shocked by how good her hand gently wrapped around my forearm feels. "Nothing," I say. "I was just going to go home."
"Would you like to eat some lunch with me?" She smirks at me with hopeful eyes. I can't help but smirk back and nod my head 'yes.' "Awesome. Just give me a minute to get my things and I'll meet you outside." I nod my head again as I slowly pull my arm out of her hand. She looks surprised and blushes again; I don't think she knew she was still touching me.
Clarke's POV
I can barely contain the excitement I feel. There are butterflies in my stomach. As Lexa walks out the door, I turn around to grab my small backpack that's on the floor. I stand up straight and grab my keys off the desk. Before I can walk out, Aunt Vic grabs me to stop me. I turn to look at her and find curious blue eyes boring into me.
"What are you doing?" she asks me.
"I'm going to go eat with a woman I've been trying to work up the courage to ask out for a month," I say plainly. "What's wrong? You're acting defensive."
She lets go of me and pulls he glasses off her face. "I just want to know… your intentions, Clarke."
"You're asking your niece what her intentions are with an ex client of yours?" I ask, not really shocked. "Here I thought maybe you might be worried about me being taken advantage of."
Aunt Vic snorts at that, not being able to control her laughter. "Clarke, sweetie, you don't need protection. Especially not from Lexa. I'm honestly more worried about her then you."
"Why?" I ask as I realize maybe this gorgeous woman I've been pinning over might not even be in any position to potentially date someone. "Is she not okay?"
"No, she's better than okay. I just know you…" she takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. I know that action. She's trying to figure out how to say something offensive without being offensive; it never works. "Clarke, you've grown a lot. You're a completely different person than six months ago, and exponentially different from when you first got sober. I just want to know if you're trying to pursue something serious. Because if you're not, I would suggest not even bothering."
"Oh," I'm shocked. I was totally prepared for her to scold me because of my past. "Aunt Vic, I'm not trying to use her. I'm not trying to just have sex with her. I'm intrigued by her. I can't take my eyes off her when she's in the same room as me. I want to get to know her. I was going to ask for her number last night, but a sponsee called me so I walked away."
"Ah," my aunt says, some sort of realization hitting her. "Alright then." She walks around me to head back to her office.
"That's it?" I ask. I'm so use to her interrogating me and I don't know how to handle this.
"Yup," she says briskly. She turns around wearing a small smile. "I know Lexa. She's a beautiful person. I honestly hope this ends up going somewhere. If you're going to marry anyone, there's no one better than her, in my opinion."
"Who said anything about marriage?"
"I did. I'm predicting."
"Wow. After all the talks you've had with me about not making assumptions, there you go making a huge one," I tease her. I panicked for a second. I thought she was implying Lexa was looking to get married. Yes, I want that one day. But I don't go around looking for it. Women who do, in my experience, tend to be crazier than the rest.
"I've been around longer than you, child. I'm predicting. If I end up wrong, then I'm wrong. But I have a feeling about this." She's smiling smugly at me. I can't stand it when she does that. She's either right or ends up right when she gives me that smile. I shake off what she's saying. I don't want it to be floating around in my brain while I'm trying to figure out the gorgeous woman waiting for me outside.
"I'll see you at home Aunt Vic," I say as I quickly head out the door, not wanting to risk her mind fucking me anymore than she already has.
As I exit the office, I'm met with the rare, cool Florida breeze. I search the landscape and find Lexa directly in front of me a few feet away. I can never seem to notice what's right in front of my face. She turns and looks at me with this cute, timid smile. Her messy bun has a few stray pieces blowing in her face from the wind. I find myself having the urge to tuck the strands behind her ears. I walk up to her and stop inches away from her. I have restrain myself from tucking those stray strands of hair. I'm being bold. I mean, I've always been pretty forward with just about everything. But I've never gotten in someone's personal space so easily and so quickly. I normally maintain at least two feet from anyone when I'm first getting to know them. I seem to not be able to help myself. I'm captivated by her forest green eyes. They have speckles of gold and yellow; like the sun shining through the forest. "Are you ready?" I ask nervously. Her smile broadens and my heart begins pounding. She's searching for something in my eyes, but I don't know what she's looking for. "What are you doing?" I blurt out. I'm amazed by lack of self-control. I would normally tease or say nothing.
"I'm looking at you," Lexa says solemnly.
"You're looking at my eyes," I tease.
"No," she breathes, her face is a bit more serious now. "I'm looking at you," she points her finger at my chest, where my heart is. I suddenly lose my breath. I want to kiss her. Which to me, is crazy. The only time I've kissed someone quickly since I've been sober is when I'm just trying to get laid. And how I want to kiss her is different. It's not for gratification or lust. I want to kiss her tenderly. I'm so thrown off. I can't do anything but continue to stare with my mouth slightly open. She smiles again, a lighthearted smile. "Are we taking separate cars or driving together?"
I shake my head and smirk. I want to laugh. I have no idea why, but I want to. I'm trying to hold it back, but it comes out. Lexa's face lights up and I feel desire in a way I never have before. I shake my head again, this time at myself. I'm so all over the place but for some reason I don't mind it. "Well," I begin, staring into her eyes once more, "I came here with my Aunt. So together. In your car or in my imaginary one." She chuckles, and now I'm smiling so big that it hurts.
"Let me walk you to my car then," Lexa says warmly. She holds up her arm, like a gentleman in an old movie. I wrap my arm around hers and I can feel something beginning. I can't explain it really. I just feel it; a new beginning.
