Against All Odds Pt. 04 - Sex Stories

Against All Odds Pt. 04

... nine PM. I woke before dawn, had the boat packed and was pulling out of the small harbour by the time the sun started to rise. It was getting chilly at night; the cold was invigorating in the mornings. There was zero wind. The lake was a giant mirror reflecting the shoreline in the emerging dawn light. It was easy to get the boat to top speed, planing on top of the glass. I didn't stop until I was at the very end of the lake. Well past any cottages or homes. It was just me, the forest and a lake carved out of solid bedrock.

I cut the engine, dropped the trolling motor, and gunned it with a short spurt to drift parallel to the shore. Sitting in the front, I started casting jerk baits at the rocks, drop-offs, and crannies along the shoreline. This type of repetitive movement was Prozac for me. It allowed my overactive, overdramatic, anxious mind to slow down and merge with the surroundings. Time started to slow down. It was glorious.

Huge smallmouth bass were on the morning feed within ten casts as I worked the entire bottom end shoreline of the lake. It was catch and release until I surprisingly hit upon a drop-off that had Walleye. I kept two for dinner.

I had a lot to think about. I needed a plan.

First, I was heartbroken. There is no escaping this. It was visceral, wrenching, all-consuming. I cried quietly as I fished. I was resigned to the time it would take to heal this. I didn't shy away from any of these emotions. I was alone with them, safe and now that ...

... Mel was not part of my life, I could again go back to creating emotional distance from people. You cannot be abandoned if no one occupies that space. I took solace in this, knowing it was a temporary and unhealthy solution. At some point, this would need addressing.

For now, job number one was committing to being clean and sober and my work. I was a classic functioning user, but I knew this would wear thin over time. I always had reservations that I had a problem, but it was good science to test the theory. Stay clean for thirty days, then evaluate. Then sixty, ninety and six months. Then evaluate. The short-term objective was one year. Concentrating on work, sobriety, and health. The 'Dad bod' thing needed to go. I was an athlete when I was young. I needed that discipline.

Should I be honest with everyone? I always felt shame admitting I had problems. Barry, my boss, would be the first I told. After that, I had no clue what to do, so I put it aside. Mike would help me with that. Meetings were a given, but I knew they helped, and for whatever reason, the characters that made it to rooms always seemed intriguing. I once thought it was a fluke, but not anymore. From brick layers and hitmen to physicists, actors and students, the common thread of trying to stay clean made for humble and interesting moments with exceptional people.

Now, the elephant in the room. Melissa. I've been on the other side of betrayal, where I was the cheater. Each time it was a coward's exit or ...