Something A Lot Like Love - A Getting There Story

A Brief Interlude in Delray Beach

David made his way out to the front of The Crossroads. He pulled out a cigarette as he walked past the two dozen people or so already smoking outside the building. As he inhaled the first drag of his cigarette, his nerves seemed to go down. His other hand was relaxed and the breeze in the air helped him feel calmer. The breeze was one of the few things about Fucking Delray Beach he truly enjoyed.

Fucking Delray Beach, Florida. Where to start

David had moved here for rehab a year earlier. The administrators their encouraged he not return home yet and since there wasn't much left for him at home anyway, he took their advice.

Not one of his finer decisions.

Fucking Delray Beach was about thirty-five minutes north of Fort Lauderdale and interconnected with the towns of Boynton Beach and Boca Raton. There were about 70,000 people there, most of them retired folks and Haitian immigrants.

Then, there was the recovery community.

South Florida in general was often referred to as the recovery capitol of the world. If that was true, Fucking Delray Beach was the capitol of the capitol. You couldn't walk two blocks without finding a halfway house, treatment facility, AA meeting, or someone sitting with another person reading the Big Book. For every person who relapsed here, ten more people came in for a rehab stint.

Everywhere you went, addiction and recovery was in the air. Not far behind were scammers trying to take advantage of young addicts. Not far behind that were newly sober addicts desperate for money helping the scammers take advantage of young addicts. Not far behind that were the people who earned long-term recovery and took pleasure in rubbing it in everyone else's face. Not far behind that were the people in short-term recovery that quit drinking and doing drugs but didn't change a thing about the type of person they were. Not far behind that were the few people that David had met that actually turned their lives around and tried to do some good.

And then, there was David.

As several members of the Wednesday meeting walked past him without so much as a glance, he began to feel anxious again. Paul and Steven shared a conversation of a congratulatory nature as Johnny ran up behind Steven before slapping his hands on Steven's shoulders.

"Big Steve!" Johnny shouted. "Congrats my fuckin' dog!"

Johnny laughed as Steven smiled smugly, turning around to embrace Johnny and offer thanks. David could feel his left hand clenching and unclenching watching the display from a distance.

Just as the three Northeasterners engaged in their typical post-meeting banter, David felt a hand slap down on his right shoulder. Though slightly startled by the sudden contact, David was actually relieved when he turned to see Bill looking at him with a large smile on his face.

"Big three-six-five," Bill said excitedly. "How's it feel, man?"

David chuckled half-heartedly, tilting his head back as he did so.

"Ya know," David began as he lifted his cigarette closer to his mouth. "It was actually going okay before you sandbagged me in there."

Bill cocked his head to the side, the smile remaining on his face as David took another drag of his cigarette. The smile very rarely left Bill's face so this wasn't unusual.

"Ah come on," Bill said. "Didn't it feel at least a little good to get some recognition? You earned this man. One year is a big deal."

David took another drag from his cigarette. The slightest of smiles that had been on his face faded as he thought of the other members of the Wednesday meeting once again.