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My first serious relationship after I got sober was with a man named Ed. I met him at a meeting in San Rafael. Ed was only twenty-three or twenty-four at the time, and I was barely eighteen, but he seemed so much older to me. He ran his own asbestos removal company and made a decent living. Ed was from Arkansas. He loved Harleys and Elvis. Our apartment in Novato was drenched in Elvis memorabilia. In my chameleon-like nature, I got a perm, wore acid washed jeans, and cowboy boots. I was biker chick Suzy Homemaker. I tried to make tuna casserole and I even hand-sewed oven mitts!

Ed was a good person. He was newly sober, a Christian, and a member of a sober bike club. We went on lots of motorcycle runs. It was so much fun! Riding down a two-lane highway with three hundred Harleys is a powerful feeling. You’d never know by the look of us that we were all clean and sober. I even went to Ed’s church service a few times. It was actually really nice. I didn’t spontaneously combust, and the preacher mostly spoke about love and family.

Ed and I lasted for about a year and a half. In the end, we were just too different. It ended and I moved out of his Elvis house. About a week after I moved out, my teenage crush Alex called to say that she was back in town and single, and since I was still harboring feelings for her, I jumped at the chance to see her. The spark was definitely still there, and we immediately fell into a relationship. I don’t waste time in this department. I lead with my heart.

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