Being Honest With Fiction

I understand that I say that I am being honest with fiction. But everything that I have put here is true.I understand that I change names, dates, people, places and things to protect the less-than innocent, including me. But as fictional as tis is; all of this is true.Or better, all if this is true to me. I remember you from the basement of an old church and how you used to smile at me.I saw nothing to smile about.And you still smiled.I saw nothing to be happy about.But you still smiled.I saw no reason for me to be where I was and still, you smiled at me and said, “Keep coming back.” I always shook my head.“What the hell is the matter with him?”You would tell me, “It gets better!” and then you would smile.I doubted every word.I doubted your sincerity.I doubted your hospitality.I questioned everything you said because to me, you and all your 12-Step friends were cult members trying to be cult leaders and to me, you could all kiss my ass and die right afterwards. I remember you telling…