Well, I wasn't totally honest with Justin that night three weeks ago. I don't know if he sensed that or not, but it might explain the delayed phone call that he promised. Everything I said was the honest to God truth . . . I just failed to mention a major part. So, I'm guessing that the truth must be revealed at some time or another, which means I might as well get this off my chest.

It took me only a year to leave that retreat. Yeah, one year. I was so happy when I was feeling good about myself for the first time in my life. I was on top of the world and thought I was ready to face anything. Even my father. The big man himself was something that seemed so small to me at the time. I wondered why I was so afraid of him in the first place. I finally started to see that I deserved happiness and didn't have to torture myself by making myself believe that I didn't.


I will not make the same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery


So, in the mist of my newly gained confidence, I hopped my happy ass on a plane to Englewood, California to face my greatest fear.


I will not break the way you did,
You fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far


Everything was going surprisingly well. I woke on time, got on my flight and landed safely. The traffic wasn't so bad and I was still on my natural, bubbly high. I even got up to the front door without freaking out and turning around before anyone noticed I was there. My hand nostalgically ran over the wooden door that led to my childhood hell before pressing firmly against the familiar doorbell.

It was only a matter of seconds before it swung open, revealing a timid, middle-aged woman, "Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized, "This must be the wrong house."

"Well, who are you looking for?" the woman asked curiously as she stood up straighter. I looked over her pale skin and tired eyes. She looked so worn down.

"Um, Michael Daniels?" I said. She nodded and opened the door wider. I took that as an invitation inside and briskly walked through the door. My eyes scanned the living room and I realized that nothing much had changed. The furniture was all the same, just rearranged. The t.v. had been updated to a big screen and a new recliner replaced the old one my father once owned.

My mood was slightly dampened as I remembered once thinking my father loved a chair more than me, but I perked up when I realized that it was just a thought. He was my father, for Pete's sake. There was a reason behind the abuse and hurtful words. My schooling and my retreat taught me that many people take out anger on the weaker people because they can't fight off a bigger problem in their lives.

I guess that's what I was there for. To find the bigger problem so I could let go of all my hurt when I could confirm that it wasn't me who caused him pain.

"Helen, who was that?" I snap my head in the direction of his voice. I can feel myself recoil as his large form comes into few. He's dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans. His beer belly has slimmed down some, but he still held that intimidating glare in his eyes. But I refused to back down. I came way too far to just quit.


I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out


"Well, this young lady . . . " Helen began before being abruptly cut off by my father.

"What are you doing here?" His tone is far from welcoming, but I don't back down.

"I came to see you," I explain, "I wanted to catch up on a few things." He snorts and makes his way to his recliner, plopping down with a thump. He gestured toward the sofa across from him and I make my way over to it, taking a seat.

"So, you wanna catch up, eh?" I nod, "Are you sure that's all you want?" I shrug, suddenly feeling like a five-year-old as I twiddle my thumbs.

"I'd like some explanations too," I answer honestly, "Just to get some closure." Suddenly, his hearty laugh boomed through my ears as he turns to Helen.

"Do you hear this?" he asked, "She wants some 'explanations'." Helen smiles awkwardly and I'm tempted to break his fingers as he makes air quotations.

"I think I deserve an explanation," I state calmly. He raises a brow with a smug and amused look on his face.

"Deserve?" he questioned, "Is this the part where I apologize and all that other shit?"

"I just want to know why things happened the way they did while I was growing up," I said, "Maybe we can find the root of the problem." My professional tone takes over as a feeling of vulnerability came over me.

"You want to know the root of the problem, Alonsha?" He leans in toward me and I can smell the alcohol on his breath, "You."

"I don't believe that," I told him, trying to hold back the angry tears that were threatening to drown me, "I didn't do anything to deserve that type of childhood."

"You were born," he stated simply, "Enough said." Despite my many attempts to fight it, a single tear rolled down my face as my heart broke for the millionth time.

"You haven't changed," I said softly, "You're still the same." I stood as he rolled his eyes. I sent a silent wish that they would get stuck that way.

"Neither have you," he told me, "You're still weak and pathetic. Crawling all the back here for some apology you don't deserve."


I cannot cry
Because you know that's weakness in your eyes


"I. . ."

"You know what you deserved?" he sneered, "Everything I gave you and so much more." I didn't even know how to respond to that. I worked so hard to gain my confidence, and in a few short minutes, he tore it all apart.


My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with


As I practically ran out of the house, I could hear every sinister threat and word my father ever said to me. It all echoed through my head, reminding me of how useless I really was. I tried my best to find a Greyhound bus station with blurry eyes. I brought a last-minute ticket back to Rhode Island and did the stupidest thing I could've ever done: Gave up.


Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid


I didn't go back to the retreat, thinking that it was a waste of time. I decided to make a new name for myself in Rhode Island. Since I wasn't a familiar face, nobody to could label me or expect anything from me. I was free to do as I pleased. Now that was liberating. I wasn't anybody's bitch. I didn't have to be the best friend or perfect girlfriend. I didn't have to listen to him. I finally had control of my life.


I watched you die
I heard you cry every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me


I became completely selfish. Before, I was always concerned about what was going in the lives of my friends back home in LA. Wondering how the center was going. Hoping that Tom and Diana were doing alright. Praying that Adam was adjusting to his new environment . . .

But that was before I got new friends: Gin and coke, Jack and coke, rum and coke . . . We became quite close as time went by. I'd spend my days working as a waitress at some bar before heading down the street to drink at another one. For a while, it was all good. I downed a few before heading out to the dance floor, shaking it like there was no tomorrow. It was even better when I started to slip my drinking habits into my afternoon and morning schedules. And before I knew it, I had developed an addiction.


You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain


It took me six months to realize it though. I just thought I was doing what any normal twenty-something year old would do: drink and party, party and drink. But once the partying stopped and the drinking continued, I began to see the light. It only added to the depression I was already feeling, so it led to more drinking and crying.


And now I cry in the middle of the night
For the same damn thing


Then one day, I woke up in the small apartment above the bar I had been working at temporarily. At first, I didn't realize where I was. My head was heavy and my body ached. A ray of sunlight seeping in through a crack in my blind struck me in the eye as I struggled to lift myself off the bed. As my hand touched down against my mattress, I was surprised to feel the sticky wetness of my own vomit. I groaned and rolled over as the scent attacked my nose for the first time.

That's when it hit me. I was becoming my father. A lonely alcoholic who could barely stand in the mornings because of the enormous hangovers from all the drinking I had done the night before. As I brought myself to the eight by ten cell of a bathroom, I looked in the mirror and saw it all in front of me. What I had become and what I would continue to be if I didn't make a positive change.


Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid


The rehabilitation center in the retreat facilitation took me right in. I spent over a year in detox before I finally found the strength to stare at a beer and not get the urge to drink the whole six-pack. I'm proud of that and I'm proud that I can I say I've been alcohol free since the day I handed myself in for help. I love myself too much to go through that again. I'm just hoping Justin takes the news as well as Tiffany and them did.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"Call her."

"No."

"Call her."

"No."

"Call her, damn it!" Trace yelled as he slammed down his fist, causing Justin to mess up the line he was writing.

"No!" Justin yelled back, "And you made me fuck up my song book." Trace narrowed his eyes at his friend before sighing.

"Why not?" Trace asked. Justin looked down at his book.

"Why not what?" he asked absentmindedly.

"Why won't you call her?" Trace questioned in a frustrated tone.

"Because . . . " Justin said, trailing off with nothing else to say. Trace waited for a moment to see if he'd continue.

"Because is not an answer, Justin," Trace informed him. Justin sucked his teeth and slammed his book shut.

"Because I don't want to!" Justin whined as he stood from his kitchen table and walked out of the room, Trace right on his heels.

"Oh, that's mature," Trace taunted, "'I don't want to," he mocked, "You should be ashamed." Justin's jaw tightened and he ignored Trace's comments. He should be ashamed. He knew that Alonsha was being completely honest in her words, and in a weird way, he understood what she was talking about after thinking about things. But he just couldn't bring himself to forgive her. Who's to say she won't break his heart again?

"Trace, it's not that easy," Justin explained, "I can't just forgive her like that. I need time."

"It's been three weeks, man," Trace reminded him, "And you said you thought over her words and kinda understood her stance."

"I did, and I do," Justin sighed, "It's just . . . "

"It's just what?" Trace pried.

"I don't know," Justin whimpered, "I just don't think I should be the one to back down."

"You're not," Trace assured, "She's the one that begged you to talk to her." Justin shrugged. She had done a reasonable amount of begging.

"But . . . "

"No buts!" Trace said sharply, "Just put it into perspective." Trace told him with a serious tone.

"Put what into perspective?" Justin asked as he took a seat on his living room sofa. Trace sat on the love seat across from him.

"Your life," Trace explained, "Plot it out in black and white."

"What about grey?" Justin questioned. Trace waved him off.

"There's no grey, dude," Trace sat up and leaned in toward him, "Your life with Alonsha in it, or your life without Alonsha in it. It's as simple as that."

"And there's no grey?" Justin asked again.

"No, just with or without," Trace told him, "She can't sorta be in your life."

Justin raised a brow, "Why not?"

"Because . . . " Trace paused, "Because I said so."

"But . . . "

"Stop being a dick and just think about it," Trace interrupted. Justin sighed and rested his head in his hand.

To have Alonsha in his life, or not to have Alonsha in his life. That is the question.



Song Credit:

"Because of You" - Kelly Clarkson