The Proof is in the Flesh

a homecoming

There was a moment, in the first 48 hours after meeting my now life partner, Rob, that he stopped in his tracks, looked me deep in the eyes and said: “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.” Immediately after saying this, he started prophesying: “Now, I can start working out, building my business back up, buying houses, leaving this place…” and on and on he went naming all these tasks he could accomplish now that he had met me.

Truth be told, we were in the bathroom of a trap house when that transpired. We had been up smoking crack for two days. Still, I placed my hands on the tops of his bony shoulders and held his gaze. I knew he was telling me what he perceived to be the truth. Even through the dope smoke, I saw his true essence.

I am gifted at seeing the humanity in people, often to my demise.

Our journey together, for the next few years, was filled with heartache and rough terrain.

Yet, let me report: after a good year and some months fucking it up, we are sober. We left that place. He has meat on his bones. He does work out. He is building his business back up. No doubt we will be buying houses some time in the future.

Everything he predicted in that bathroom, he manifested. He says, and I write about this in my Laughingstock pieces, he manifested me. Had been pleading with God to send him a companion with specific qualities. I fit every last bill. So, he stepped out on faith, saw me for who I truly was and not who I appeared to be.

And, we made it. This far. And, it keeps getting better. And, will continue. God willing.

It hasn’t been easy. The statistics around two people staying together in use are low, then staying together clean after the fact are even lower. I am not making any recommendations. I just know we have something remarkable between us– a commitment and a chemistry– that allows us to love beyond the pain. And, more important than that, we put God in charge.

So, last night, I experienced a bit of a homecoming. I hadn’t seen Rob’s brother since we got clean. The last time I remember seeing him I was high, my thinnest (with muscles sagging off my bones), skin sallow, and wearing clothes meant for a much younger frame. Most of the time I spent with him, I was hidden away hitting the pipe, not clear mind, and was often arguing with Rob, sometimes quite frantically and desperately and definitely loudly.

I was nervous to be in the presence of his brother last night: 70 lbs heavier, dressed like a somewhat trendy middle-aged woman, and without the mask. But, I was proud of myself and proud of my relationship with Rob and proud of what we accomplished together with God’s grace.

When I walked up to the crowd of people who were gathered with his brother last night, some made comments about my weight or my short hair, yada yada. But, Rob’s brother, he embraced me. He embraced me with a smile that shone through his whole body. I felt like the prodigal son come home.

“I was embarrassed to see you, I got so fat,” I said.

“Never be embarrassed to see me,” he said.

Before we made our journey north, Rob’s brother had leveled with me about his expectations of me, of Rob, of us. He had seen Rob’s fall from grace. Knew his worth and capabilities. In a manner of speaking, he tasked me with Rob’s care.

I took him seriously. I wasn’t fucking around.

Though we had always gotten along well enough, I realized that seeing us– bigger and better– was so different from just hearing from us. I imagine he could see that we were not just free from the shackles of addiction, but we were full of love and sparkle and commitment and integrity.

We were all we said we would be. And more.

We were light. We were hope. We were his big brother back from the dead.

His eyes never stopped sparking either. I noticed this. I felt the connection.

When I got up to leave, Rob’s brother embraced me again. Really hugged the shit out of me. And, for the first time since we met, whispered in my ear: “I love you.”

I love you, too, bruh.