Little by Slowly: a Story of Love and Recovery

by Paul Hina

just be together, and let time slip away. Being together meant that life could be effortless in a way that they had never known before. They didn't have to chase away that aloneness any longer. Once he stopped searching for something, he could get lost and let things fall wherever the hell they would fall, and then life could become something more effortless and less dreadful. Maybe, then, he could stop feeling like he's always running from behind, trying to catch up with everyone else, trying to find that mythic place where he has always perceived everyone else's life eventually lands.

  In AA there's an aphorism—one of many, and a merciful reprieve from the oft-used 'One day at a time'— that simply states 'Little by slowly.' Many of these aphorisms just wash over Sam and have no real meaning, or they have a meaning that fits him at a particular moment but can change and mean something completely different later. He had always thought of 'little by slowly' as just another way to let people know that the path of sobriety is a slow process, taken with small, deliberate steps. But, now, he sees it as a way to realize that you have to stop chasing expectations. Little by slowly you can learn how to live your life the right way and not have to feel like you're always trying to catch up to what you think your life is supposed to be. Little by slowly life catches up with you.

  He remembers that he had turned his phone off earlier on the train. He reaches into his pocket to see if she's called. He has three voice mail messages. One is from Kelly. She called before 11:00am, just before she was drunk enough to say more things that she might regret. He erases her message without listening, has no interest in listening to her anymore. He's made amends with her, and suspects that the next time he hears of her will be when she drinks herself to death, or comes to make amends with him.

  The other two messages are from Russell, and he knows that, having not picked up either of his calls, and from the tenor of their last conversation, Russell is probably worried.

  He calls Russell.

  "Sam," Russell says. "I'm glad it's you."

  "Sorry. I didn't sleep well last night. I turned my phone off so I could get some rest."

  "So, is everything alright?"

  "Everything's fine."

  "You talk to Jessi?"

  "I did."

  "How'd it go? Is she going to continue coming to our meeting?"

  "I don't know. I don't think so."

  "You don't think so? What happened?"

  "I went to see her. I wanted to tell her everything I'd been feeling. I wanted to tell her how we couldn't continue going to the same meeting, that it was too disruptive, but that I also didn't want to stop seeing her."

  "And?"

  "I had a run-in with her fiancé."

  "You didn't?"

  "I did."

  "Define 'run-in.'"

  "Just a standard argument. He was clearly jealous and didn't want me talking to Jessi."

  "Of course."

  "Then, I guess, I pushed a few too many of his buttons and he hit me."

  "You got hit again?"

  "Yeah, and in the same spot, too."

  "You alright?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. The side of my face is sore and a little swollen, but it's no big deal."

  "So, you didn't get to see Jessi?"

  "No, I did."

  "Were you able to talk?"

  "Not really. I mean, we talked, but it was brief. He wouldn't leave us and was nearby the whole time."

  "What'd you say to her?"

  "I asked her to choose."

  "Choose what?"

  "Him or me."

  "You didn't? You can't do that. You can't put her in that position."

  "But I did."

  "And?"

  "She chose him."

  "Did she say that?"

  "No, but it was clear she wasn't choosing me."

  "What'd you do?"

  "I left."

  "That's how you left things?"

  "Yeah. I just got up and left, walked away."

  "So, you don't think she'll be there tonight?"

  "I don't think so. No."

  "You will be though, right?"

  "What else do I have?"

  "Come on, Sam. Don't start feeling sorry for yourself. Besides, you said yourself that she didn't exactly choose him."

  "I think she did. She was just too nice to hit me with it."

  "You need some company before the meeting? We could talk."

  "No, I'm alright. I'll probably just go for a walk or something. Kill some time before the meeting."

  "Okay. Well, I'll see you in a bit then."

  When Sam descends the stairs of the old church for the meeting, he can't deny hoping that she might be down there, waiting for him. But she is not.

  He'd walked all around the church, block after block, trying to avoid any unnecessary chit-chat at the church before the beginning of the meeting. So, when he walked in there was little to no time to spare for conversation.

  He goes to the refreshment table and grabs a cup of coffee. He can almost feel the stares around the room. It's one of the first times, probably since his first meeting, that he feels that he's under a microscope. He knows that they've all been talking about him and Jessi. The gossip spreads like a virus in these small, tight social circles.

  "They're all talking, you know," a voice says from behind him. It's Tom.

  "I figured."

  "Don't give yourself a hard time. If I were younger man, I wouldn't have turned her away."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah," Tom says, looking out into the group. "Don't pay any attention to what they say. They're just bored. Besides, life's too short to carry regret on your back all the time."

  "I don't regret anything."

  "Good. Keep it that way," he says, and pats Sam on the arm.

  Sam goes to his seat trying to ignore the looks. Ellyn is staring at him, and he knows if he had gotten here a couple minutes earlier, he would've had to endure her conversation. He can see from her stare, though, that she's trying to break free from the conversation she's in, and that if she can get to him before the meeting starts, she will. And when she finally does break free, she immediately starts coming his way.

  "Okay, folks, let's get together," Russell says from the front of the room, saving Sam from Ellyn. Of course, there will be no saving him once the meeting has ended.

  Russell begins to recite the Serenity Prayer and the Lord's Prayer. Sam goes through the motions, as he usually does. During the reading of the twelve traditions, he stares at the empty seat next to him, and mouths the words without being fully conscious of them.

  Today, Russell is leading a discussion from the podium, which means, he's going to read from the Big Book and open up some discussion to the group. Normally, Sam loves the readings that Russell chooses, they're usually good choices, and he keeps the conversation light and flowing.

  But, today, Sam's heart's just not in it. It's probably the only meeting, excluding his first meeting, that he really can't wait for it to end. He's only sitting here now because he feels he has to be here, hasn't gone missing in three months. He's climbed nicely back into his routine. He can't afford to lose anymore of himself.

  He looks toward the double doors up the basement stairs. His heart jumps at the sight of what look like Jessi's black, knee-high boots marching back and forth outside. His immediate response is to jump up and go to her, but he suppresses it. He's pushed enough.

  If it is her, she needs to decide rather she'll stay or she'll go on her own. She needs to choose.

  She stops in front of the doors, faces the doors. She stands there for a long time. He quickly thinks about what it would mean to him if this person comes in and isn't Jessi.

  But, when the door finally opens, today's unseasonably warm breeze blows down into the room. Spring is on the verge. And those boots move inside, stop at the top step for what seems like several minutes, but was probably only seconds, before they begin their descent.

  By this time, everyone has turned toward the staircase, as
if they were all being pulled by the same string that is pulling Sam toward her. Even Russell has stumbled over his reading, watching her, Jessi, move toward Sam.

  As she sits in the empty chair beside Sam, a wave of rose water washes over him. And everyone tries to shift their attention back to Russell, but, though they're trying hard to hide their preoccupation with the tension that Jessi has brought with her, you can tell that they're only half-aware of what he's saying.

  Jessi looks over at Sam. "Hi," she whispers.

  "I've been waiting for you."

  "I know," she says. "I've been waiting for you, too. For a long time."

  She grabs his hand, and looks toward the door.

  "You wanna go?" he asks.

  "Yeah, somewhere. Anywhere."

  "Okay," he says, and squeezes her hand. "Let's get lost."