Page 156 of Relapse

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I miss you, Noah.”

I closed my eyes. If I tried hard enough, I could picture her. Like she was right there with me.

“I’m glad you called,” I said.

“Me too.”

Another pause settled between us. It felt like there were a hundred things we both wanted to say and neither of us knew where to begin.

“Take care of yourself, Noah,” she finally said.

“I’m trying.”

“Keep trying.” Her voice cracked some.

“I will.”

After we hung up, I sat there staring at the phone for a long time. Somehow, hearing her voice had made my loneliness feel both easier and harder to bear. Hearing her at the other end of the receiver, reminded me of the day she saved my life from my own hand. Someday, I needed to find the courage to tell her just how much that meant to me.

How much she meant to me.

When I woke up on day ten, my roommate was gone. He’d been discharged. I wasn’t sure why, but I struggled with his absence. He had been my familiarity. I was nervous as to who I’d be meeting next. His replacement.

Day eleven was my first experience sleeping through the night. My doctor from the hospital visited as well. He was there to check in on my medical stuff, like the head injury I had when I was first admitted. He said I looked good. Healthier. I thanked him. My scans came back normal.

The cravings hit me hard on day twelve. They had subsided for a few days until my new roommate arrived. He was in the thick of his withdrawal, and that sent me spiraling back into the feelings of my own. Sympathy, I guessed.

Day thirteen and fourteen I spoke during group circle. For the first time. I admitted aloud that I was abused as a child. I didn’t disclose who hurt me. I knew I would never remember who these strangers were after my time here, so I took a chance to be more open. The room around me didn’t collapse. The people around me listened.

A heavy weight lifted from my shoulders.

By the fifteenth and sixteenth days, my counselor started helping me make plans for the future. This scared me a little.

“You’re almost done with the program, Noah. You should be so proud of yourself,” he assured me.

He went through the process of what exiting the facility would look like. When I would return to have meetings with my NA and AA representative. Who my caseworker would be.

That night before bed, I picked up the bible and I started to read some. It was difficult to comprehend. But I tried my best. My new roommate asked if I’d read some aloud to him. So I did.

Psalm 107:19-20: “Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He sent out his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave.”

I didn’t know why, but I slept easier after that.

The next few days passed quickly. Before I knew it, I was packing my bag. Damian was heading to the facility to pick me up.

The staff gave me a send off. They gave me snacks, their business cards if I needed to reach them, and the bible.

They told me, “Good luck!”

Twenty-two days prior to this, I wasn’t sure I’d survive even a day there. Now I had to figure out how to survive the rest of my life without fucking up my second chance. The thought was terrifying. There were no counselors waiting around every corner out there. No routine. No walls to keep me inside from making the same mistakes. Just me and whatever kind of man I chose to be next. For the first time, I understood that getting clean had been the easy part. Staying clean would be the real fight.

I was prepared to try.

Chapter forty

I Think I Remember Those Eyes

NOAH