Single Handed And Friends

So, my sponsors had to help me get my heat going at home- Winter has finally hit here in the Sun City, and boy did I forget how much I hate the cold!
I let Rockabilly Boy know that we needed to end things, mostly because he just wasn't looking at it becoming anything, and, really, what do I need to get all tangled up in someone who doesn't see that I'm worth more than that? We're still friends, and, frankly, I like that better. I don't have to worry about if I'll get to see him (cuz I'm NOT arranging my schedule around a significant other's!) but we still see each other every few days at a meeting or with friends. He's fun to hang out with, so it works and hasn't gotten all awkward yet.
I'm meeting more and more people through AA, which is interesting and strange at the same time. One guy I've met twice and is SUCH a wonderful person, I just wish he'd stick with sobriety for the long-term so maybe he'd find happiness (not to mention he's really good looking and VERY sweet) and it'd be nice to see how that'd go.
I've hung out with a very handsome Mexican gentleman (not Hispanic- don't get all PC on me, the dude was born in Cidad Juarez, for hell's sake!) a few times, and he just had surgery, but I'm looking forward to seeing if that goes anywhere- he's been a good friend to me a few times when I needed something as it is, so either way, I'm happy.
For the first time, I'm not entirely wrapped up in finding someone, though. I really enjoy being around some of these people and, yes, I do miss having someone to disappear for a weekend with, and someone around in the evenings, but I do alright by myself. I have a group of friends I really enjoy being with, and, well, I'll live. If I don't ever find anyone to share my life with, I know I'll be alright.

Wet On Dry Land

Folks who frequent AA call people who try to sober up on their own without meetings, etc. going "dry". Sober, but not really much else. I sobered up three and a half years ago, while I was stationed in South Korea. April will make four years.
Friday night, I spent time with the people I've come to consider my family. As per usual, they decided to go to the local VFW chapter, and began drinking. I drank water. Shots were done around me, toasts made over my head and if a round was bought, I was not thought of. As per usual.
That day, a no-contact order had been put in place by my commander against yet another of my male friends, and I was asked why I have male friends. Apparently a single military female shouldn't even speak to a married man for fear their wife takes it wrong. The house in my hometown that I was planning to move into fell through. I spent the entire day in the office, with I don't know how many panic attacks, and filled out, no lie, six different leave forms, in addition to the three I'd already submitted.
By Friday night, I wanted a shot. No, that's a lie. I wanted THEM ALL. Every shot, as many as it took to get me wasted plus six dozen more, please, bartender.
For the first time in years, I voiced this. And one of my friends got up to get me one.
I wanted it.
After three and a half years of sobriety, I was ready to throw it away. I wanted that drink.
I ran out the door.
I drove back to town, setting up a place to meet an AA-going friend on my way.
I attended my first three meetings-in the same day.
More than three years after quitting.
I came home.
I have spent the weekend in a house with three men, and no alcohol. Last night, after the last meeting, we made pizza, root beer floats, gorged ourselves on snack food, played board games that quickly turned into dirty jokes, and taunted the hell out of one another. We're pretty sure the sheriff that was behind us in line at the grocery store thought the three clowns laughing their assess off and buying $110 worth of snack food were high.
I have never had this much fun drunk.
Then again, I'm pretty sure I didn't know I could have this much fun with a bunch of sober people, either.
Life is changing.
If there's anything I want to take away from this, though, I really want to remember to trust the process- or maybe at least learn to.