August 15th, 1981

David came by the apartment last night after he got off work. He brings me roses and sunlight. We had a wonderful dinner at the Cottonwood Cafe. I have decided that I need to tell him about my alcoholism– tonight. On the walk to the restaurant he says he feels like having a beer. I don’t say anything. With dinner he orders a Mexican beer and I have iced tea. After dinner he asks for iced tea also. Later, at his apartment before lovemaking, I tell him there is something I need to talk about. I tell him that the meeting I had been to last night was Alcoholics Anonymous– and that I am a sober recovering alcoholic– and the program is the center of my life. He is quiet. I wait for a response. Finally he says “I couldn’t love you if you were drinking…” I tell him that I am quite sure of that. “Promise me two things,” he asks. “That you will never drink, and that if you ever feel as though you will, that you’ll find me, call me, come to me.”

It is a simple naive statement of support. A bridge has been crossed. Now my relationship with David is contingent upon my sobriety. I will lose him if I start to drink. It is now an acknowledged reality– but I’ve known in my heart that he is a gift of my sobriety. He is part of the structure that is evolving in my new life– this life that is a gift from god. There is much at stake in my sobriety. My life itself.