There comes a point in addiction where you have to decide if your life matters. Because as you've self-destructed, you've told yourself it doesn't. You've been able to convince yourself that nothing really matters, and this is just a way to get through the day, the hour, the year. Until suddenly, years have passed and it's the only way you've gotten through life. And it doesn't really matter anymore because you've decided. You don't matter anymore. Nobody needs to know and no one will miss you when everything is over.

But then, it comes. Something happens and you're presented with a choice. Make something matter or give yourself away.

Shawn found himself at an AA meeting, five years sober. The room was bright but rather bare. It was a small community center in central Florida. The chairs were uncomfortable, and the coffee was too hot for a Florida summer. But here he was. Alive and well. Safe and healthy.

He wasn't a regular at meetings, but he knew how to share to a group of strangers.

"Five years ago, I was in rehab in upstate New York. I spent my 30th birthday there. My entire life was built on addictions, either my parents or my own. I never wanted it. My whole childhood was based on my parent's drinking and I never wanted that to be me. I tried so hard for so long, but I couldn't climb out. My addiction started with self-harm, moved into alcohol, and took some pit stops with a few drugs here and there. I was just running. I just couldn't live with myself. But the slow death I was racing towards was harder to get to than I thought. I realized I had let myself down in the way I promised myself I wouldn't.

I didn't think I'd get here. It's been hard, but it's been worth it. I'm opening myself up to a future I didn't even dare to wish for. A life I wouldn't admit to dreaming of. I brought myself back to my family this past year. The good ones, not the abusive parents… I'm giving myself a chance. That's what the past five years has been about. Giving myself a chance at happiness…

I came today because I'm five years sober but it's been a difficult last few weeks. I didn't want to admit to myself that I really wanted to drink, but I wasn't sleeping well and I let things get away from me inside my head. But I'm so far along now that I haven't just made promises to myself, I've made them to other people. Important people. For the first time, people I really don't want to let down. So, I can't let myself down, no matter how hard things get. I'm gonna get another five years. I'm just gonna keep going."

The strangers clapped for him and the counselor gave him a medallion about the size of a silver dollar. It was gold and blue, with a hint of sparkle. It felt strange that this small coin could represent such a huge piece of himself. He listened to the others in the meeting, and he felt okay. He felt normal.

Shawn tried to enjoy the rest of his month in Florida. He kept his five-year chip in his wallet and used this anniversary as a motivation point. He got his sleep schedule back to normal. Just a few weird dreams, but nothing that kept him up. He wrote some poems and spoke to his therapist every week. He even called Katy twice.

Shawn loved the sound of her voice and the way it was so easy to lose track of time as they lost themselves in conversation. They hadn't talked about anything heavy yet, their conversations were just getting to know each other's interests and beliefs about the world. He didn't want to scare her off. He was glad that she didn't bring up the scars on their date. Almost as if they didn't matter to her. He knew he'd talk about it one day, but the fact that he could just exist as he is, was comforting.

He had hoped he would be able to go back to New York after Florida, but there was always something interesting to cover somewhere, and he ended up with an assignment in Nevada. An artist was doing some contemporary new piece in the desert and his editor wanted Shawn's take on it.

Problem was, Shawn didn't really like Nevada. He didn't really care for the vast emptiness the desert provided. Plus, whenever he thought of Nevada, he thought of Vegas. He had a lot of weird and bad memories from his trips there years ago. He just hoped the art was worth the trip.

Shawn had been there a few days when Maya called him.

He wasn't surprised when Maya called him this time, but he did hesitate to answer. He had just talked to Cory the day before. Cory called to tell him how he had seen Jack for the first time in years, at the school dance, no less. Shawn had laughed, trying to picture Jack at a middle school dance. It was nearly impossible.

But now he stared at the screen of his phone and took a deep breath. The last phone call from her was good, but he hadn't expected the turmoil it brought up in him afterwards. He hoped this time he would be okay.

"Hey Maya. Glad you called. Nevada's boring." Shawn sat down on the bed in his motel room and settled in to talk.

"How can that be? They've got Vegas!" Maya didn't know much about all the states, but she had always bought into the idea that Vegas was the fun place where all the adults loved to go crazy.

Shawn chuckled a bit. "Nah, Vegas isn't all it's cracked up to be. Plus, I'm not there. I'm just here in the desert covering an art installation."

Maya's interest peaked. "That's so cool. People just make art in the desert? What kind of art?"

"It's kind of cool. There's an artist's collective that installed several sculptures and you kind of have to go on a scavenger hunt to find them. I haven't seen each piece yet, but I'll tell you about the whole thing when I figure out what it all is."

Shawn sometimes found sculpture artists pretentious in the past, but so far, he was enjoying what they had out here. "So, what's going on with you?"

"I met another interesting person the other day," Maya told him. She was a bit less nervous to ask about his life since their last phone call. She figured they had to get to know each other somehow and Shawn had seemed okay with answering questions for her.

"Another one? How many interesting people can there be on this Earth?" Shawn knew who she meant. He just wasn't sure what she wanted to know.

"More than I thought, that's for sure," she paused. "Um, but I mean Jack. That long lost brother you mentioned once. The one who left... Too bad you weren't in town to see him."

"Nah, it's fine. I talk to him every Christmas. He's doing okay I think." Shawn was actually really happy when Cory said that Jack talked with Eric. Maybe seeing Eric again would make Jack rethink the direction his life had taken.

"Cory said you all used to be close though." Maya was a bit confused. She didn't want to pry if things had gone bad, but she really wanted to know everything about Shawn. She and Riley had asked Cory about Jack. He told her they all used to be friends but that she should ask Shawn more about it.

"We were," Shawn sighed. "He found me my senior year of high school. He was starting college and had decided to go to Penn Brook. Eric, Jack, and I ended up living together for a while... Mr. Turner had to move to California my senior year. It was either reconcile with my brother or stay with the Matthews again."

Shawn had always been thankful that he had gotten lucky and didn't have to spend his senior year under the Matthews' rules. That would have made for an even weirder senior year than what he had.

"How'd you do it? How were you okay with letting Jack come back into your life? Weren't you mad he got a better family?" Maya couldn't imagine being friends with her father's new family, her half siblings, there was too much anger there.

She wondered what it was like to have a sibling that left you too, not just parents. She wondered what it was like to have your whole family leave. She really wouldn't know what she would do. Well, that wasn't true. She would just stay with Riley. But she certainly wouldn't be okay. She wondered how Shawn was so okay.

"Well, that's just it, he was never in my life in the first place," Shawn explained. "He never knew about me. We had the same dad, different moms. His mom never told him about me until he 18. When he found out, he wanted me in his life. We were really good friends for several years after that. He never had a choice in how his family was just like I never had a choice in mine. I was angry for a while. But he was there for me when he could be and that's what mattered."

"So, then what happened, you guys just aren't close anymore?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. A lot of things changed in life Maya. We grew in very different directions and we just don't have a lot to say to each other anymore… Maybe someday that will change, but for now, we just have different things that we think are important."

Shawn really did hope that one day things could be different. He used to love hanging out with Jack. Even without growing up together, they seemed to have a brotherly connection when they were together. It probably had something to say in the whole nature vs nurture debate.

"Oh," Maya wasn't sure what to think. The mystery of Shawn Hunter never really ended. She was surprised on her birthday when he mentioned he had a brother who left him. She had never imagined she'd see him.

"I'm still glad I reconnected with him. We had a lot of good times and helped each other through some stuff. He's still important to me." A lot had happened between Jack and Shawn since they first found each other, but he would always be glad he had Jack in his life when he did.

"Did Jack know what your dad was like? Were you able to talk about it with him?" Maya always wanted a sibling to go through this life with. She had Riley, but Riley couldn't really understand Maya's home life.

"I mean, I told him some things. For a little bit, he wanted to find my dad, to meet him. I had to tell him not to do that and explain why it was a bad idea… But then my dad came back when we were in college. He had a heart attack. That was the only time Jack met him." Shawn shivered slightly at the thought of that traumatic day. He really didn't want to have a nightmare about it tonight.

"I'm sorry." Maya didn't know what to say anymore. She had a lot of anger about her father, but she would hate if he came back in her life and just died.

"Yeah… It was a really hard time." Shawn really didn't want to dive into those memories with Maya. He really didn't want to talk about his dad's death. "Hey, I'm really sorry Maya. My boss is calling, and I have to update him and find out my next assignment. We can talk more later if that's okay?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. Thanks for telling me about Jack. Let me know how the art thing goes." Maya let Shawn hang up. She knew traveling was probably such a cool and busy job. She was glad he had made time for her at all.

Shawn hung up the phone and laid back in his bed. He felt bad lying to her. He knew he probably could have just changed the topic and asked about what was going on with her, but as soon as he mentioned his dad's death, he could feel himself getting tense. His dad's death had been such a blur, but he could still pick out the scar from the cut he made that needed stitches that day. He hadn't thought about the specifics in such a long time. He knew he wasn't obligated to tell Maya everything, but he wanted to be honest with her. He didn't want to hide things about himself. It all just seemed weird to talk about.

It had been so long since Chett died. He had come so far from the mess he was back then. He'd talked about his dad with his therapist so many times. He wasn't quite sure why talking about it right now was making him nervous.

He knew that letting Maya and Katy into his life was going to mean he had to share these things about himself. They needed to get to know him, he just still wanted to keep certain walls up. He didn't want to share too much too quickly and end up an anxious mess again.

Luckily, he had therapy in the morning. He just needed to get through the night. He sighed and journaled for a little bit before deciding to read. If he could get lost in a book, his memories would usually leave him alone. He wasn't going to let his past mess up his future.

When he woke up two hours before his alarm was set, he wouldn't say it was a full-blown nightmare that woke him. But night terrors were just as uncomfortable. Compared to the horrors that sometimes plagued his dreams, he got off relatively easy that night. He couldn't remember exactly what he had dreamed, but he remembered vague images of hospitals and woke up thinking about his dad. He wished he could get more sleep, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. He settled on writing for a little while. He ended up writing a poem describing the various hospitals he's had to experience in his life; from the one his dad died in, the one Jon recovered in after his motorcycle accident, to the few that Shawn stayed in for psychiatric treatment. He hadn't intended to start his morning this way, but it seemed like it needed to come out. He wasn't a big fan of hospitals.

He felt tired again when he was done, but he decided to get ready for his day. He had therapy soon and he really did need to drive around the desert to photograph the art installation. He needed to stay busy and get going or he would just dwell in his memories and anxieties too much.

Therapy helped, but it was also a big task for the day. He took another hour after therapy to reset and move on with his day. They talked about the panic that came up when he mentioned his dad's death to Maya. They talked about the way that all these hospitals played a role in his life. They talked a little bit about Jack and how even though he's made peace with how they aren't close anymore; it can still be painful when he remembers how hard he had worked to foster their relationship in the first place.

Shawn knew he was still doing a lot of hard work. He knew that he couldn't have a full nightmare about the day his dad died because he knows he disassociated a lot that day. He knows it was a blur of blood and noise and faces; the stale waiting room air and the hushed soft voices of everyone whispering around him. Always concerned about him.

He remembered it all started with a panic and ended with a dissolving reality. He has no memory of the week following his father's death. He doesn't know if he cut more that week. He doesn't know if he cried or drank or just went along with things as normal. He knows it probably would have been worse if Jack hadn't been there.

It used to bother him, the things he couldn't remember. He used to hate that there were pieces of his life that were missing. But he knew it was probably better that way. The things he could remember were painful, and an old therapist had once told him that his brain was doing him a kindness by blocking some of it out. But he knew his decades of on and off drug and alcohol abuse topped with deep depressions and dissociation left holes in his life that were filled with vague feelings that alluded to the fact that he couldn't cope.

He hoped that as he filled his brain with new memories, better ones, he could remember those instead.