Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“I’m honored,” she tells me and brings my hand up to her lips, and she kisses it. “Read it to me.”
I clear my throat and look down at my writing on the paper. “There are so many things that I can put on this paper to tell you about all the wrongs I’ve done. I think the first thing that comes to my mind is shame. Shame that I let my family down, shame that my mother and father would know I was weak.” I feel a tear drop on my hand, but I go on. “Guilt. I had so much guilt in me that it crushed my ability to breathe at times. I remember when it was my father’s surprise birthday, and I missed it because I was getting high the night before and slept through the party. Guilt that I wasn’t that son he always wished I would be. I had fear inside me also. That everyone would know my secret, fear that they would judge me because of the drugs, fear that I would always be that person. It took all the guilt and the shame and the fear and made me isolated. I spent all my time alone, especially when I had those days when I would try to get clean, and then I would spiral down. I alienated all the good I had in my life. Pushed it all away. I was dishonest with everyone, but especially me. I told myself I was fine. I told myself that everyone felt like this. It pushed me to becoming angry with myself more than anything.” I look down at the paper and then look up at Zoe who has her face covered and tears are falling. “It’s this list that makes me look at the man who I have become.” I shake my head. “I will always have that shame that I let the drugs have the upper hand and the guilt. I will always have the fear that one day it won’t be a good day, and I might slip, but I have anger because of the drugs. I’m angry that I let the drugs define who I was. I am not that person.”
“You aren’t that person,” she tells me. “You are so much more than that person. Being an addict doesn’t define who you are.”
“It doesn’t,” I agree with her. “Accepting it and having the courage to face it defines who I am,” I tell her. “I didn’t get here all on my own. I had hands that held me up and helped me, and for that, I can never repay them.”
“I think you being the man they know you are is payment enough,” she says, and she grabs my face. “I hope you know that I’m going to make a big deal out of this.”
I grab the flowers in my hand. “This is for us,” I tell her. “I have to say, writing these faults on paper is one thing but actually putting it out there and saying them out loud is a whole different ball game.” I kiss her. “Thank you for accepting me with all my mistakes and faults.”
“I wouldn’t want you any other way,” she says, grabbing the plant from me. “Can we plant it here?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I made sure it was okay. I got the permits and everything.”
“It’s going to be a plant that flourishes just like you,” she says, getting up and walking around the park. “Where do you want to put it?”
I shake my head. I just bared my soul to her and told her every single reason she shouldn’t be with me in that letter. I told her about all my faults and my mistakes, but instead of judging me, she sat there and held my hand and shared her love with me even more. This woman will cut your balls off in the blink of an eye if you hurt anyone she loves, but she loves me unconditionally and with everything she has. I look up and send out a little thank you to whoever is listening.
“What about here?” she says to a small spot in the shade that gets a sliver of sunshine through the trees. I get up and walk toward the woman who owns my heart and is in all my future memories. “We should hurry up,” she says to me. “We have to go back and do the pre-game ritual.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s just called a blow job.” I walk to her and take her in my arms, my cock ready for the said ritual.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but every single home game that I suck your dick, you win, so …” She turns in my arms. “I mean, we could test out the theory tonight.”
“I think we should continue this tradition every single day,” I tell her, and just like that, her laughter fills the whole park. After we plant the tree and wash our hands, we make our way back to the apartment where she does her ritual, and then I suit up for the biggest game of my life.