Ninth Step

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Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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Dear Becky:

I called your mother's house the other day; I don't know if she told you about that. I asked how I could get in touch with you and she asked who was calling. When I told her it was me she said I'd hurt you enough and she wasn't about to let me talk with you just so I could hurt you some more.

Well, that's what I was calling about. I was calling because I know I had hurt you and I don't want to hurt you anymore. I want to make amends for hurting you.

See, I'm in Alcoholics Anonymous now; I got nineteen months and I'm doing my Ninth Step. The Ninth Step is we make amends to people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

My sponsor says I can't just say I'm sorry and leave it at that. He says you already know I'm sorry. I'm sure you remember, you were always saying that. I'd say I was sorry and you would say you knew I was sorry; I was the sorriest mother fucker you ever seen.

So, instead of saying I'm sorry, I'll say that I was wrong. Becky, I was wrong. I wasn't mature enough to have a grown-up relationship with you. I was wrong for lying to you all them times about where I was and what I was doing and who I was with. I had the greatest treasure in the whole world right there and I was just too stupid to see it.

Looking back, part of the problem was I was looking for a Robin or a Sandra. I'm sure you remember them; they ruled our high school. They made everyone's life a living hell but for some reason I kept hoping and dreaming either one or the other would see what a great guy I was and fall madly in love with me. You gave me your heart but I convinced myself your heart wasn't good enough. Now that I'm sober? I regret that every single day.

So you weren't Robin or Sandra. Jesus, they aren't Robin or Sandra anymore either. I went to the ten year high school reunion hoping to run into you. Robin was there, still acting like her shit don't stink. Becky, she's three hundred pounds if she's a pound. Really? It was sad looking at her; she still thinks she's the Homecoming Queen; even dresses like she's still in high school. I didn't know they made thongs that size.

And Sandra? You remember how she was always telling everyone she was engaged to some guy in the Navy? She was there and she was there with her wife. I asked Allison if she'd been in the Navy and Sandra called me an asshole in front of everyone. My sponsor says I need to examine my motives to see if I owe Sandra any amends. See, if I was genuinely curious about whether or not Allison was ever in the Navy? Then, no, I don't owe her any amends. But if I was just giving Sandra a bunch of shit for running around with that obviously fake diamond ring then yes, I owe her an amends. So, yes, I owe her an amends.

I asked Pam Martin if you were there. It's Pam Dotson now but I asked her if you were there. She gave me this look like I was a piece of shit; I guess she heard about how I screwed you over. I don't think she would have told me if you were there if you had been standing right behind me.

You remember that day Robin and Sandra ran and told the school disciplinarian I was drunk? Isn't it funny, they picked one of the few days I was dead ass broke and couldn't afford a pint of vodka? They both wound up getting detentions for that little stunt.

I hope you like the Valentine's Day card; I remember bunnies were your favorite; you had like three or four of them on your bed. Becky, I was wrong for using you like I did. And then when you turned up pregnant and I ran out on you, well, that was really wrong of me. Someone told me you married some oil-field worker a couple of months after; I think it was Kevin who told me. Of course, by the time they told me about that, I was already into heroin bad time. But I hope this guy, whoever he is treats you right.

I hope you get this card; I sent it to your momma's house. Sorry, it's the only address I have for you. I never found out what your husband's name is or I'd look it up. I hope your mom gives you this card.

Becky, I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to say that, and I know it isn't good enough, but I really am sorry. And, I want to know how I can set it right. Is there anything I can do to make amends?

I'm in AA now; I started off at Narcotics Anonymous, but looking back? It all started with and ended with alcohol. That's kind of what got me into AA. I was flat ass broke, didn't have no more shit to hock; I was homeless by this time and I scraped together a couple of bucks and bought a pint of vodka. Don't ask me how I got the bright idea but I got out my rig and shot up some vodka. Next thing I know, I'm in the hospital and hear the doctor saying the time of death was two forty six. Then he turned around and I'm sitting there looking right at him. But they got me into detox right then and there.

I'm living in Canterbury Apartments, right off Transcontinental and Quincy. I put my address and my phone number on the card. When I saw it, I said that's perfect. It's got the two bunnies on the front and then when you open it there's like a hundred bunnies. Anyway, I hope you like it. I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I am. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. You always had a real big heart, well, I hope you still do. I pray I haven't destroyed that heart.

Happy Valentine's Day,

Love, Samuel

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