with Austin now standing in front of me.
I shook my head, battling back the tears.
“It’s alright, man.”
I shook my head, and he reached for me.
“Cash, it’s alright, man,” he repeated in a stern, steady tone, reminding me of my father’s heartbeat.
“Don’t.”
He grabbed my arms.
“Stop.” I shoved him, but he didn’t move. “Don’t touch me.”
“It’s alright, man. I promise.”
“No!” I fumed, stepping away from him. “It ain’t alright, and it’s never gonna be alright again! I wanna drink, Austin! I wanna drink so fuckin’ bad I’d sell my soul for it!”
“I know.” He nodded, once again reaching for me. “Let me help. I understand. Please, Cash. Let me do this for your dad.”
“He’s gone,” I whimpered, choking back the tears. He reached for me again. “Don’t.” I moved away. “Stop it.”
“Cash, it’s alright to feel it. Let yourself feel what is happening to you. You need to let the emotions take control. I know it hurts like a motherfucker, but it’s part of the process to the road of recovery. You can’t hide from the demons anymore. It’s what they want you to do. It’s how they control you.”
“Austin, I don’t think I can.”
“You can. I promise. I’ll be here to catch you when you fall.”
“I failed. I lost him. I chose my demons over my family.”
“The first step is admitting you have a problem. It takes power to acknowledge your weaknesses and don’t ever think otherwise.”
“What did I do?” I whimpered as he pulled me into his chest.
It was all it took for me to break the fuck down in his arms. My resolve shattered like a string being stretched to the max. I’d always thought it was Journey who’d free me from the addiction I couldn’t face.
I was wrong.
It was Austin.
He hugged me harder, clutching onto me with all his strength. Holding me up, when all I wanted to do was fall to the ground and beg for a second chance with my father.
“What did I do?” I repeated, crying, my chest heaving. “Why did I let so many years go by to live a life that doesn’t make me happy? For what, Austin? To drink and to drug. I’m good for no one, and I’ve always known it.”
“It’s a disease, Cash. You’re going to get help. You’ll see. I promise, man. The best is yet to come. We will all support you every step of the way.”
“I feel like I can’t breathe. Please, just help me breathe,” I bawled for what felt like hours as he held onto me so tightly, and for once in my fucked-up life, I didn’t feel like the musician I was born to be.
More like the boy who lost himself trying to prove everyone wrong.
In the end, I did. All it cost me ...
Was my hero.
Chapter 33
“When I was five years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.”
-John Lennon
<>Cash<>
One year later
“My name is Johnny Cash McGraw, and I’m an alcoholic,” I announced at my AA meeting.
“Welcome, Johnny.”
“Actually, I’m more of a human garbage disposal. I drink, I drug. I’ll take whatever as long as it takes away my emotions ’cuz I hate to feel anythin’. Even love. For over a decade I hid behind liquor and drugs. My lifestyle promoted it. I’m a fuckin’ rock star,” I scoffed out a chuckle, making the room laugh as well.
“Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, right? It’s a stigma. It’s a curse. It’s a road I drove down so many times, I don’t know how I’m still alive. Music has always played a huge role in who I am. It’s my heart, my soul, the very fiber of my bein’. I bleed my emotions down on paper, and then I sing and play the guitar in front of a sold-out stadium. Pourin’ my heart out for all to hear and connect wit’ what I’m sayin’.” I cleared my throat, trying to shake the nervousness of telling my truth to a room full of people who loved me more than anything.
“I’m at my best when I’m on stage, or in a studio. It feels like home to me. I can show the world how I feel inside without any hesitation, but when it comes to allowin’ myself time to heal and process, I go