The more serious part of all this is that, after a year of not drinking and dealing with life with a bit more clarity, I've come to realize how exquisitely frightened I am of true emotional (and physical, for that matter) intimacy. In fact, I think it's the primary reason I drank - so that I didn't have to be present in (potentially) awkward, difficult, embarassing or emotional situations. Numbing out allowed me to get through these situations with - I thought - some semblance of integrity or dignity.

What a joke. The only thing it did was cut me off, just a bit further every time, from true connection with another human being. Being sober = being completely present, which = being accountable. And that, my friends, is terrifying and I have no idea why.

My guess is that because this kind of connection with someone else could be immensely rewarding it also has the potential to also - at some point - be very painful. After experiencing that kind of pain more than once in college - before I discovered alcohol and its numbing effects - I guess I just steeled myself, shut my heart down, against that kind of hurt.

That strikes me as very, very sad. I know that I'm in a bit of a precarious place right now: wanting desperately to love and be loved and yet not really being ready for that deeply emotional connection that I'm craving. I'm not sure whether I'll be ready for it until it happens and I'm forced to let go of - or go straight through - the fear. Or, perhaps I need to work through all this fear and whatnot before that "special someone" presents himself. More likely it's a bit of both.

I do know, however, that it's taken me a year to pinpoint this little revelation and I'm not sure what I'm going to learn about myself in the next 12 months or even the next 12 years. People in meetings often say "more shall be revealed," and now I understand more clearly what that means. I do know that I've grown in ways I never thought possible this year and for that I'm so grateful.