Like most alcohol lovers and drug admirers, I had to look the abyss of my diseased mind in the face and ask, 'Is life going to be long and miserable, decaying deeper into alcoholism and drug addiction? Or am I going to look into the freedom of sobriety for a more peaceful and productive life?". I chose to try the latter after much pain and misery. The drugs and alcohol just don't have the gusto to mask the obsessive thoughts and destructive feelings they were bringing about in me, so like the best of begrudging problem drinkers, I decided to join a twelve step group, which has not only, steps, principles and solutions, but girls girls, and more girls.

Feeling like an empty condom with no social lubricant, I desperately felt the need for something or SOMEONE to fill the hole in me or maybe it was me that wanted to FILL A HOLE, and, incidentally, I would need a condom. Anyway, I was looking for something more intimate. With a plethora of ripe, young, pretty and sober girls surrounding me in my meetings, I was hornier than a thirteen year old boning away in math class. Like every newcomer the journey of sex and sobriety is a wild and tumultuous one, filled with bad decisions and really clouded lustful thinking.

Luckily for me, sober chicks can be very horny people, especially, those coming off a big drug run. Most are just looking for hard cock and bubble gum and I was all out of bubble gum. The courting process is simpler because of the honesty learned in the program. Sometimes it can be as juvenile as a little note with a box that reads, "If you want to fuck, check here." I guess the drawback is that these aren't usually the oldest, wisest or prettiest girls but I can vouch that they know their way around a penis. In fact, most of them had to rely on that trade to support their previous habit. As you can see, I was very confused about not just what to do but WHO to do.

Therefore, my first few attempts were misfires. My first date was with a really big girl with plenty of spunk. But she wouldn't let me kiss her because she said kissing was too intimate. It was nothing like "Pretty Woman". She wasn't even a hooker. She got on top of me, all of her, and did a cheerleading/stripper version of "Lady Marmalade". It was nothing like "Moulin Rouge". I was scared for my pelvis. Then, she kissed me, not on the mouth, but I couldn't see her again. As shallow as it is, I could never be seen with her in public. Probably, because I would have been lost in her shadow. She had a very large shadow. I eventually told her, "May god be with you on your journey.", as I hung up the phone with my friend Robby laughing his ass off in the background.

The next girl I dated was the first time I sampled chocolate. She knew her way around my body and it blew me away. She picked me up from the recovery house in her beat up Datsun and gave me immaculate copulation in Beverly Glen canyon. My ego went through the roof and I was the talk of the house. Then, she brought her lesbian friend to join in which SOUNDS amazing. The woman looked like Jimmy Walker with an afro. And she reeked of vodka. They had a bottle under the front seat and were drinking straight from the neck. Kissing her with the vodka breath and her Jimmy Walker friend who I did not touch made me sick to my stomach. To top it all off she kept saying that I was like, "Dynomite". That freaked me out enough to never talk to her again.

And then I met a random girl from Utah. She had never been to any clubs in LA before and I think some queen had given her and her queen friend some ecstasy. Five minutes after we met, she fell in love and was begging for me on the street and I did what any self-respecting newly sober guy would do. I screwed her against a wall in West Hollywood. WOW!! Did I just say that out loud? Rub a dub club lovin. I think her friend wanted some action too but I was not going down that road, at least, not yet. He wanted me and she wanted me but I did not want him and, in retrospect, I did not want her either. And in honest retrospect, I am sure the E had something to do with her wanting me so bad. Needless to say that relationship ended as soon as she came down. But I had rejoined the world of intercourse. BING. That same pivotal night, another girl from Riverside, in the backseat of her parents car, happily gave Robby and I some oral. It was like tag team wrestling in a Pontiac. By the way, THAT NEVER HAPPENS, and for the first time I felt thankful for the people of Riverside. It felt amazing on the outside but on the inside, I felt like a wretch and my devious ways were starting to really get the best of me.

After that night, in discussion with Robby, who is sort of a spiritual teacher of mine, I had this thought. 'Now that I am sober, am I going to act out my debaucherous behavior with wild random encounters of sex or am I going to settle that urge with other dreams of grandeur and flow into a relationship which is soulful and endearing and guarantees sex on a regular steady basis?" Again, I opted for the latter and found a perfect recovering alcoholic girlfriend.

These days, my thinking, like my relationship, seems out of control all the time. My mind is a sleepy minefield and when you add her mind which is alcoholic and FEMALE, their is bound to be some explosions. We just work harder to get through them. I am very insecure and emotional. I have a bad self image. I am jealous, bitter and I create suspicion as I walk through her life. I am fearful, selfish and angry. She is neurotic, obsessed and anal. She is sensitive. She wants me to come over her house even though she is sick of me. She hates to be mad at me but loves to be mad at me for being mad at her and always has to have the last word even if it is silence.

We have to keep each other in check in ways that most normal couples neglect. I'm easy. All she has to do is acknowledge me for my talents, mostly sexual, forgive me for being a fucking animal, burping farting etc. and confirm my belief that I have a large penis. The biggest one on the planet. The largest fucking penis in the universe. OK?

For her it is a bit more complicated. Women, in general, have very specific needs and these needs within an alcoholic woman are amplified. She needs to feel like she has been considered in all my decisions. She has to be respected and she has to be understood. Although, that can be a trap because I will never understand how to fix her problems. I have to desire her as well as cherish her. And she needs to be included in all my plans, even if it going to a monster truck show, which she will inevitably say no to. The opportunity to say no is valuable to her. And most of all I have to listen to her talk and talk and talk.

When these concepts don't work together it is a roller coaster ride through the aforementioned emotions and character flaws but when it works together, it is serendipity. God's grace shines upon us in ways that is difficult to describe. We know that we are meant to be together and our feelings prove it. We flow in honest synchronicity; it is perfect. We hike in Death Valley climb rocks at Point Dume Malibu. I go to her yoga classes and she comes to my comedy shows. We walk the streets of New York and San Francisco to visit each other families. And drive around LA. In the program they call it, "living the dream". Laugh and love and make our own adult films with our own adult toys and experiment in cars, planes, on beaches and parks and every bed in between and the kitchen and bathroom too. Sex has developed into a true way to express my love for my girlfriend and join her in celebrating our togetherness. Who knew? No this is serious. I have learned how to appreciate sex in a relationship in ways that I never thought possible. It's amazing. I guess it is all part of growing up. Someday, I am sure, I will stop passing her notes, too. "I like you, Louis."