Brian sat at the table waiting for the waitress to bring his pot of coffee.  There were three tables that were occupied; there was a young man with a goatee who had his laptop and a thick book on the table.  There was a large pot of coffee at the corner of the table and he appeared to be reading a book. Brian thought he was probably a student wanting a place to study.  At the second table, there was an older man, with graying hair and he wore a yellowed t-shirt.  He was eating a piece of pie and reading a newspaper.  At the third table was a young woman with a baby carriage at the side of the table.  Brian hoped the baby wouldn't start crying as he didn't want to hear that kind of noise.

His eyes darted around the diner, not really looking at anything in particular.  He fidgeted with the creamer cups, stacking them in threes and fours and then twirling them on the table.  He picked up his water glass, took a sip, and then put it back on the table.  A few minutes after ordering the pot of coffee, the waitress brought the pot and poured him a cup.

"It's fresh.  Do you want anything else?"  She asked as she watched Brian fidget with the creamers on the table.  

"No,"  Brian said, too restless to even tell her ‘thank you'.  

"Okay.  I'll check on you in a bit,"  she said and walked to the table where the man in the yellowed t-shirt was finishing his pie.  

Brian picked up three packets of sugar and dumped them into his coffee cup.  He took one of the creamer containers and added it to the cup as well.  Picking up his spoon, he stirred it all together and took a sip.  It was hot, but he didn't really feel the heat as his brain was filled with other thoughts.  He wasn't thirsty, cold, or tired, and drinking coffee was more to have something to do to occupy the time until Cleo came.  

His mind was filled with thoughts and he wished he had his journal with him and decided to get out his phone and use the note-taking app on it.  He usually used Ever Note to jot down ideas as he never knew when an idea for a campaign would come to him. He remembered having a conversation with Justin about inspiration and how someone's muse didn't get to choose when it showed up.  Thinking of that conversation made him miss Justin even more.  

He pulled out his phone and scrolled to the app, opened it, and started swiping letters.  He didn't know what genius developed swiping but whoever it was should have gotten a Nobel prize. He remembered the early days of cell phones when you had to hit the number buttons a few times just to scroll through to get to the correct letter.  Then someone had the brilliant idea to put a qwerty keyboard on the phone and that made a big difference in texting. This brought him to the fiasco with Justin and not responding right away to his text messages.  His mind was filled with a stream of consciousness and it felt like every thought brought him back to conversations with Justin.  6 degrees of separation, but instead of connecting how you knew someone to their connection to another person, it was connecting everything he did to a conversation he'd had with Justin or something they'd done together.  

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to center himself and picked up his phone to write.  

What the fuck is wrong with me?  When did every waking thought lead to Justin and when Justin isn't available I fucking fall apart.  It started out when he didn't respond to my text and we figured that out, but...."  Bran stopped writing, not sure what he wanted to say.  Cleo had told him that his journal was for him and that if he wanted to share it, he could but it was for him to write down his feelings and see if there were any patterns.  

Brian found that he usually just wrote whatever came to his mind and rarely hesitated, but tonight he had so many thoughts in his head that he wasn't sure where to begin to write them down.  He picked up his phone again and started writing.

I've never spent so much time thinking except to come up with brilliant ideas for campaigns.  Cleo got me writing my thoughts and I've filled almost an entire journal with them and will have to pick up a new one soon.  But what good does it really do if I have no idea what the thoughts mean?  It's like a kid doing algebra and having no idea how he will need it in real life.  Well, actually, algebra is something most people have no need for unless you are an engineer and build bridges and shit.  

I thought I was okay with things, but then I got thrown a curve ball when Justin didn't respond to my texts.  Shit, what a pussy.  I mean it is a fucking text. When did I become a high school girl whose feelings were hurt because the guy I liked didn't call me?  But I'm over the texting thing.  Now, my problem is .... Brian stopped again, not sure what he wanted to write.   

Before he could decide, Cleo walked in, located Brian, and sat down.  Brian had been looking at his phone and didn't see him come in. Brian heard the chair being moved and looked up to see Cleo. 

Brian said, "Thanks for coming."

Cleo said, "No problem.  I said any time and I meant it.  What's going on?" Cleo asked, not bothering with small talk.  In the three months that he had sponsored Brian, he had never called to ask for help.  Cleo knew that Brian had been sober for 6 months prior to his sponsorship, but 6 months wasn't really a long time when you thought about how long most people had been drinking.  

"I drove over to Woody's tonight,"  Brian said, thinking that the statement would be self-explanatory and he wouldn't have to provide any further information.

"Woody's?" Cleo asked, clearly unfamiliar with the significance.   "Is that a person or a place?"

Brian realized his mistake and said, "Woody's is a gay pub on Liberty Avenue.  I used to hang out there with my friends and play pool.  It's not a dance club, just a place on Liberty Avenue."  Brian explained the bare minimum about the pub to Cleo.  

"You drove over to Woody's?"  Cleo repeated, the question in its significance lost on him.  He was not grasping the problem or why Brian was obviously sufficiently upset to reach out to him.

Brian shook his head and explained, "I used to hang out at Woody's every night.  I'd go there to have a few drinks, unwind, maybe shoot some pool, pick up some tricks and shoot the shit with my friends.  Sometimes I'd buy some E as well."

Cleo nodded, beginning to understand the significance of Brian driving over to Woody's but he did not bombard him with questions, instead, he waited for Brian to share the significance of his actions.

"I was restless, and didn't want to stay in my loft tonight."  Brian took a sip of coffee and put the cup down.  He picked up the spoon and mixed the ingredients again.  He picked up a container of creamer and stacked it on another one and then laid four containers side by side.  He took a deep breath and continued.  "It all started last weekend.  Justin is getting ready for a show and he's been really busy.  I didn't see him all week last week and when I texted him about the weekend, he didn't respond.  Then Gus and I texted him again, and he didn't respond.  I let it get to my head, thinking he decided he didn't want to have a relationship."   Brian took another sip of coffee and felt the tension in his body increase as he shared the information with Cleo.

He shook his head, looking down at the table for a few moments before continuing.  Cleo watched Brian, recognizing there was a lot more to his drive to Woody's and hoped he could get Brian to talk about the situation. 

"We had sex the weekend before and then I thought Justin decided that it was a bad idea.  I'm stupid.  We had sex on Saturday and then he asked me to go to lunch with him on Monday, but I conveniently forgot about Monday since we didn't have any time for anything but lunch.  Then he was busy with his art show and I didn't see him all week. I knew he was going to be busy, he told me he would probably not see me, but when he didn't respond to my texts, I let my imagination get the better of me.  I know, I sound like a high school kid with a crush,"  Brian stopped talking, glancing around the diner to see if anyone was paying attention to them.  The young man with the laptop and book was still sitting in the corner with his pot of coffee and appeared to be deep in reading and taking notes.  The older man with the graying t-shirt was no longer there and had been replaced by another man in a rumpled suit with this tie pulled loose, and the young mother with the baby carriage was gone.  No one seemed to be looking at Brian or paying any attention to him except Cleo who sat patiently occasionally sipping his coffee.

Brian glanced at Cleo to see if he wanted him to continue and Cleo nodded gently at him, raising his eyebrows slightly in permission for Brian to continue sharing.

"Justin showed up Saturday morning and to say that I was happy and angry was an understatement.  We talked and figured it out.  Talking again.  Who knew that Brian Kinney would ever talk about anything that wasn't work-related and do it on a regular basis?"  Brian said, acknowledging his progress but denigrating himself at the same time.  Cleo took note of his continued practice of putting down himself and his progress.  He was concerned that Brian referred to his actions as that of a high school teen, telling Cleo that Brian didn't take pride in his abilities to work through his problems. 

The waitress came back to the table asking if they wanted more coffee or wanted to order.  Both men declined and she left them alone.

"We talked and I thought I was good with everything.  We got together again Saturday night, but I haven't seen him since. We texted a few times, but that's it.  Tonight, it got to me.  I came home from my meeting and wrote in my journal."  Brian looked at Cleo with a faint smile on his face, like a child who wanted to be acknowledged for a good deed. Brian waited a minute for Cleo to acknowledge his statement and after Cleo nodded he continued.  "Anyway, I finished writing and was restless.  I know you said that the journal was for me and I could choose to share the information or keep it private but I think I need to share what I wrote."

"I'm here to listen to whatever you want to talk about,"  Cleo said in a quiet, soothing voice.  He was very interested in what was going through Brian's mind which resulted in him going to Woody's and calling him tonight.  

"I need a direction.  I always thought that success meant having enough money to get away from my childhood and doing whatever I wanted to do.  I have a successful business and a home that I love.  I have a relationship with my son and that is growing all the time.  I used to only see him for a few hours a week and now I have him every weekend.  I even bought him a bed and cleared out an extra room for him so he could have his own space.  But, I'm realizing that all the things that I thought meant success aren't enough.  I want someone to share it with."

"I'm still confused about how that led you to drive to Woody's tonight?"  Cleo asked, trying to understand Brian's actions.

"I missed Justin and I've been missing Justin.  Everything I do I connect to something Justin said or something we did together.  He hasn't been around much for the last 10 days and I just said fuck it.  What good is sobriety and all this talking and writing in my journal if I'm still alone?  I got in my car and drove to Woody's.  What really scared me is that I actually thought about going and still went.  I had this little debate in my head thinking about whether any of my friends would be there and what would they think if I showed up.  Then I decided that it was the middle of the week and most likely no one would even know if I went.  I hadn't really thought about what I would do once I got there, but the idea of an anonymous drink had definitely crossed my mind. When I got there I sat in the parking lot, debating whether to go in and then I heard a knock on my window."  Brian paused, thinking about the significance of the knock for the first time this evening.

"Mikey knocked.  I rolled down the window, knowing I could not get away with ignoring his presence.  I've basically not acknowledged him for the last few months since he hasn't been supportive of my sobriety.  He keeps denying that I could possibly be an alcoholic and every time he saw me all he wanted was to go for drinks and get me back inside Babylon or Woody's.  I've worked through that rejection and I've accepted that we will not renew our friendship until he accepts my situation.  But, anyway, when he knocked I rolled down my window and he says he's really glad I'm here and I've realized I'm not an alcoholic and he'll go in and order us some drinks."  Brian stopped talking, reliving that short conversation, acknowledging for the first time that it was precipitous that it actually was Michael who saw him.  "I guess I owe him for knocking on my window.  It was the wake-up call I needed.  I realized that as much as I didn't want to be alone, I didn't want to be drinking either.  I watched him walk into Woody's, making sure he was inside, and then rolled up the window and high-tailed it here, calling you on the way."  Brian finished his story and looked at Cleo, hoping that he would not see disappointment or judgment on his face.  He was relieved that Cleo's expression hadn't changed throughout his entire monologue.

Cleo waited a few moments to ensure that Brian had finished talking before he responded.  He drank some coffee and waved the waitress over to the table.  She walked over a few moments later.

"What can I get for you?" She asked as she got out her pen and pad of paper.

"I think I will have a piece of cherry pie,"  Cleo said and looked at Brian to see if he wanted anything.  

Brian's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten dinner.  "I guess I should eat.  I ordered dinner earlier but when it arrived I didn't have an appetite.  I'll have a turkey sandwich on wheat bread, no mayo.  If you have any dijon mustard, I'll have that on the side."

"I don't think we have dijon but we have some horseradish mustard.  Will that do?"  The waitress said.

"Sure,'  Brian said as he nodded his head.  

"It'll be right up.  Do you need more coffee?" she asked as she lifted the near-empty pot.

"Yes, Please,"  said Cleo when Brian didn't respond. When Cleo looked at Brian he appeared exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his face looked tired.  It was as if all the energy had been sucked out of him after he had shared his thoughts with Cleo.

"I'm glad you called, Brian.  You've said a lot of things and didn't say just as many, but I feel that after 3 months of being your sponsor, I have some insight into what makes you tick."

Brian took a deep breath and said, "You know, sitting here at 10:00 o'clock at night is not the vision I had for myself when I stopped drinking.  I'm not really certain what I thought it would look like, but it certainly wasn't me feeling like I've reverted to a high school teenager."

"Let's start there since you've mentioned that subject a few times.  You seem to feel that your need to be acknowledged by Justin is like being in high school and that is a negative situation.  Can you tell me a little more about that?  I think I need to understand what is bothering you about the situation."

Brian didn't answer right away as he had to take a few moments to think about the question.  He mulled over his responses but didn't say anything.

"Brian, I know you've been keeping a journal and I want you to think of our conversation just like your journal.  I'm not going to judge your answers but I think you need to just say what is on your mind and not try to give the politically correct answer.  Remember, no one is judging anyone here.  I just want to help, "  Cleo said, reminding Brian that their relationship was non-judgemental and he would not stop helping Brian even if he did not agree with his actions.

"Okay, deal.  Going back to high school brings back a lot of memories.  I already knew I was gay and wasn't interested in girls, well, definitely not dating them.  Girls were basically there except when they would endlessly talk and giggle about some guy.  I knew they would never be talking about me; after all, I was not on the dating scene.  But, I could not avoid listening to their giggles and seeing their note passing in class.  Occasionally a teacher would catch a girl passing notes and chastise them, but it seemed to me that a lot of time was spent in high school with the girls talking about boys.  There was endless talk about going out, what they were going to do, if they had sex or how far they let a guy go, and whether or not a guy liked them.  It was a constant topic of conversation in the halls, between classes, at lunch, and even in the bleachers.  I was a big soccer player in high school and got a scholarship to college with it, even.  Anyway, I would look at the bleachers during halftime, and sometimes while waiting my turn for goal shooting during practice and I could see the girls giggling and pointing at different guys on the team.  I never really understood the appeal of endless talking about guys and giggles etc.  And now, I get it.  I think about Justin all the time, want to talk to him all the time, and everything I do makes me think about him and either how he would like/dislike an activity or to share something about my day with him. So this constant thinking of him reminds me of the girls in high school and I guess I used to think they were silly and obsessed with guys and that I would never be like that.  And here I am, just like those girls in high school."

Cleo nodded in understanding.  He remembered being in high school and how the girls acted around the guys.  But this talk wasn't about him, it was about Brian and his needs.  He didn't need to be reminded of his role in this meeting.  "It bothers you to be reminded of high school or is it that you are like the girls in high school? "

The waitress came to the table, bringing their food. As she placed the turkey sandwich in front of Brian, he could hear the rumbling in his stomach protesting the length of time it had been since his last meal.  His mouth watered at the smell of the sandwich, despite the plain fare. Slightly embarrassed by the loud protests from his stomach, he said, "I apologize.  I ordered some Thai food earlier tonight but was too restless to eat."  He picked up his knife and dipped it in the mustard that the waitress had placed near his dinner plate.  She had put it in a small cup, unsure if he would like the alternative she had suggested.  He tasted the mustard on the tip of the knife, allowing the slightly spicy flavor hit his tastebuds, and then nodded.  "This will do."  He spread it on his sandwich and took a bite, chewing the food while he thought about Cleo's question.

"Yeah.  I guess it does.  I'm a forty-year-old man who is constantly thinking about this guy.  I've always been independent and never needed or wanted to rely on anyone in my life and now all that has changed. I always thought my life was perfect.  I was highly successful in my business.  I was the stud of Liberty Avenue; everyone wanted to have sex with me.  I had nothing to do with my poor excuse of a family, and I had enough money to do whatever I wanted to do.  And all that changed when I became sober."  Brian took another bite of his sandwich, accepting that he was really hungry.  He could feel the tension in his body; having Cleo sitting across from him had not magically erased his anxiety, but he was feeling better.

"I wrapped my car around a fucking tree and I could have hurt myself or worse, Gus, had he been with me.  That was the wake-up call I needed to make changes in my life, and now that I have made some changes, I'm beginning to wonder if my perfect life wasn't so perfect after all."

Cleo nodded in understanding and ate a piece of his cherry pie.  It was an indulgence that he didn't allow himself very often but he understood the importance of treating yourself every now and then.  "Brian,"  Cleo said, wanting to make sure Brian was listening and he had his full attention.  "I understand that you are freaked out by thinking you are like the high school girls you remember from your youth,  but why did you go to Woody's?  That is really why we are here tonight."  Cleo felt that he needed to bring Brian back to the reason they were sitting here.  While he had given Brian permission to talk freely and encouraged him not to filter his thoughts, he felt that Brian wasn't really getting to the root of the issue.  He felt that it was important for Brian to leave their meeting with an understanding of his actions and pride in the way he handled them.

Brain shrugged, not sure what to say.

"Okay, let's pretend for a moment that you really don't know why you went to Woody's,"  Cleo said, allowing Brian to partially get away with his denial.

"What do you mean pretend?  If I knew why I went to Woody's why would I be sitting here?" Brian said, the anger in his voice evident when he thought Cleo was calling him a liar.  He started to scoot his chair back and made a motion for the waitress to come to the table.

Cleo said very calmly.  "I will not and cannot force you to stay, but I think that you should.  Sit down, Brian."

Brian sat down, imagining what Gus felt like when he corrected him.  "Sorry," Brian said, feeling like he was 10 years old.

"No need to apologize.  You were uncomfortable and you wanted to leave.  You have a right not to feel uncomfortable, but I think your discomfort has more to do with your denial of the situation than with my words."  Cleo said as he waved the waitress away as she approached the table.

"Now, let's try this again. Why did you go to Woody's, Brian."

"I was feeling restless and I didn't like the feeling.  I thought if I went to Woody's it would give me something to do."  Brian paused as he admitted his motivation for going.  He felt little relief in admitting his motivation and instead felt guilty.  "Am I ever going to learn to deal with my feelings?  A little restlessness and I turn back to my old habits.  I'm such a loser.  I should just tell Justin to find someone else."  Brian said as he thought about his actions and their consequences.

Cleo reached out to Brian and placed his hand over Brian's hand that was sitting on the table, giving it a tight squeeze.  "Pity doesn't become you, Brian.  And I don't like anyone who uses pity to get other people to act.  So stop your pity party, I don't want to attend." Cleo used his stern voice as he felt that Brian had sufficient coddling for one night.  It was time to help him acknowledge his actions and figure out the next step.

"Ouch,"  Brian said.  "Message received."  Brian smiled a small smile and took another bite of his sandwich.  

"Good.  I think you needed a good swift kick in the ass.  Now, let's go back to Woody's.  Where are you right now, Brian?"

"I'm sitting here eating dinner with you," Brian said, not quite following Cleo's reason for asking.

"Exactly.  You are sitting in a diner, eating dinner with me.  Where were you when you called me tonight?  I'll answer that question.  You were in your car, driving from Woody's."

"Okay.  So, I'm eating dinner with you and not at Woody's.   Not really following this line of questioning, Cleo,"  Brian said, and then took another sip of his coffee.  His cup was empty so he took a few minutes to pour another cup and then add the requisite sugar and creamer to it.  

"It's pretty simple, Brian.  You were uncomfortable, restless, and missing Justin, so you initially turned toward your old coping mechanisms.  You drove to Woody's.  But, you didn't go in.  You had a conversation with yourself about the pros and cons of your actions and then when your friend Mikey showed up, you decided that it wasn't such a great idea and called me instead."  Leo dragged his fork across the plate to get the last remnants of the cherry filling and then brought the fork to his mouth, enjoying the last of the pie.

"You didn't fail.  You did exactly what you were supposed to do.  You didn't just act on your feelings, but instead thought about the consequences and used one of your coping mechanisms.  You called me.  And here we are, sitting here eating together instead of you sitting in Woody's contemplating whether you could get away with a drink or three." Cleo stopped talking while he waited for Brian to realize that he was a success and not a failure in his sobriety journey.

"Point taken, but then why do I feel like a stupid high school girl?"  Brian asked, not willing to give up his feeling of defeat so easily.

"That one is easy, Brian.  This is the first time that you are dating someone.  In the early stages of dating someone, it is pretty typical to act the way you are.  You constantly think about the person, want to be with them, miss them when they aren't there, and think about everything you do in relation to them.  It's called dating and while you aren't in high school, you are doing all the same things now that those girls did in high school.  You're just a little late to the party," Cleo explained.  He smiled as he thought of himself at that age and was glad that he had a wonderful partner at home and was not having to muddle through that part of life.  

He also understood that Brian was really struggling with these issues; therefore he added, "It's perfectly normal to feel that your life needs something more and if that something more is Justin, great.  Many people in recovery don't have a job, a home, or even friends that are supporting them in their journey.  You already had a good job and a home you love as well as a few close friends who were there for you and supported your decisions.  It is normal to start questioning other parts of your life, ie your personal life at this point in your journey. You are realizing that success is more than a job, money in the bank, and a house."

"So, you're telling me that I'm typical?"  Brian said, tongue in cheek.  "I've never been ordinary in my life."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but yeah you are an ordinary recovering alcoholic who is realizing that he wants more out of life than sobriety.  You are exactly where you should be, Brian.  There is no specific calendar that says at month so and so, you should be here.  There are no standards like in school or business. The only shareholders are you and you decide the way your journey evolves."  Cleo poured himself another cup of coffee, feeling that he had assured Brian of his normality and his success in using his coping strategies.  He was pleased with his discussion and if Brian's demeanor was any indication of his success, he had been successful in this intervention.

"Gotcha.  Sorry to pull you away from your evening," Brian said, sincerely and feeling a little guilty at interrupting Cleo, especially, this late at night.

"A crisis doesn't occur between 9:00 and 5:00.  In fact, it usually occurs after those hours as that is when the recovering individual is not involved in the day-to-day doldrums of life.  It's when a person is left with time on their hands or when something goes wrong, that usually results in problems.  When a person agrees to sponsor a person in recovery, it is with the full knowledge that a call for help could come at any time.  If the sponsor isn't willing to be available, then they should not offer to be a sponsor."  Cleo took a sip of his coffee, glad that caffeine did not impact his ability to sleep.  It was getting close to 11:00 and he wanted to get home and get some sleep before he had to go to work in the morning.  However, he was not going to leave before he was certain Brian was okay.

"Thank you.  I guess being normal is good.  On the other hand, I have to get used to the feeling that I'm pining away for Justin. That sounds so old-fashioned but it is really how I feel.  I guess I'm deeper than I thought.  I just have to get through a few more days and then I know I'll see him.  His show is Friday but he probably won't be able to get away on Friday either.  I guess I'll have to settle for seeing him briefly on Friday,"  Brian said, obviously accepting his new idea of normality.  

"It's late.  Why don't you go on home and I'll get the bill?  I'll see you on Monday,"  Brian said waving the waitress over a second time to the table.  He waved his hand at Cleo.  " go on.  I can see you trying to stifle your yawns.  I'm okay.  I promise."

Cleo looked at Brian and saw the relaxation of his shoulders and the soft lines on his face.  "Okay, but don't hesitate to call if you need anything.  I'm glad you called, Brian."  He stood up and walked over to Brian. Brian stood and gave him a hug.  It felt natural and he was glad that he had called Cleo.  It was a relief to know that he had someone who had his back.  He knew he could have called Ted or Emmett and they would have been supportive, but calling them would have alerted them to his struggles and he hadn't wanted to do that.  He wanted to keep the illusion of a perfect recovering alcoholic.  He thought that might be another topic for writing in his journal, but for now, he was happy that he had left Michael at Woody's and wasn't regretting his decision.

He watched Cleo leave and then sat down to finish his sandwich.  He finished eating about 5 minutes later and picked up the bill to pay it.  He took out the money and laid it on the table, leaving the waitress a generous tip, despite the fact that the lack of customers at that hour would not have garnered any additional customers at her station.  

As he walked to his car, he thought about his night and the decisions he had made.  He opened the car door and his phone rang.  Looking at the caller ID, he saw it was Justin. He answered.

"Hey.  I'm 5 minutes away from your place.  Want some company?"  Justin asked.

Brian wanted to see Justin, but what was he going to tell him regarding the reason for his being 20 minutes away at 11:00 at night?