A Fine Line

I imagine a fine line separates drinking from sobriety. For almost four months, Swenny and I have been traversing on the sober side of that line. Over here, when I search for bottles, I find none. Conversations are remembered. Requests are filled. Wishes are granted.

Occasionally, I look to the other side and ask what has made it possible for us to finally cross over to here. It’s as if we woke up one day in a place where alcoholism doesn’t belong, so no space for it is made.

As we work to find comfort in our new reality, we never lose sight of the circumstances that once upon a time – not long ago – made it seem impossible. Circumstances that included people who pushed us away and others who stood by ready to stop us before we went too far.

Standing today on the sober side, those very people who forced most the tension between what was and what one day might be are nowhere to be found. When I wonder where they have gone, I look across the line that distinguishes then from now. To the place from where we have come, and I see them. I see them looking back at us, reflecting on the damage we caused.

Damage so great that in their eyes, no other Swenny and Cher exists. No other Swenny and Cher is possible. And if it is, the collateral required to know is too great. So we move on.

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3 thoughts on “A Fine Line

  1. findingasobermiracle says:

    This is so profound. That line that exists somewhere. How did I cross it, when I had tried so many other times and could not? It was almost like I was trying too hard. And those people on the other side … I can see them in my mind’s eye, and the damage that they caused in trying to keep me who I was. It’s all in the past now, and has no power unless I allow it to.
    Beautifully written. ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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