Dear T,

It’s a quiet evening here at the rehabilitation center, and the stillness brings memories rushing back—the kind I’ve buried under layers of guilt and evasion. One memory resurfaced with such clarity today that I had to escape to the solace of our old park in Boksburg, a place you and I cherished for its tranquil beauty. Now, under the watchful gaze of the center’s empathetic therapists, I confront the ghost of that day—the day I failed as a best man for James, my oldest friend.

James had chosen me to stand beside him on the most important day of his life, but I hadn’t grasped the gravity of that responsibility, blinded by the allure of alcohol that numbed more than it ever healed. The suit fitting was scheduled in Johannesburg, an appointment carved into the calendar, yet easily eroded by my dependence on a drink. I told myself I would celebrate—just a little, just in Pretoria where another old friend had insisted on “one for the road.” But this destructive path led to an all-night descent into oblivion, a blackout that stole my sense of time and duty.

Morning light in Pretoria brought no epiphanies, only the pounding headache and the shameful realization that I’d missed the fitting, and I was miles away with no clear path home. Meanwhile, you couldn’t come to my aid, your hands full with the kids’ school play, a performance they’d spent weeks preparing for, a moment in their lives where their father should have been front and center, not lost in a haze of irresponsibility.

I attempted to piece together excuses that felt like sand slipping through my fingers. The truth, a boulder on my chest, left me breathless with its weight. James was more than understanding, a testament to his character that I’d let down with a severity that echoed long after the wedding bells rang. T, I can still see the disappointment in his eyes, a reflection of the confusion and hurt I’d felt from you many times. My heart aches to recall the trust I shattered, the honor I was granted but squandered thoughtlessly. Today, in therapy, I dissected that day, picking at the seams of decisions frayed by addiction. My counselor guided me through the labyrinth of denial that I had clung to so desperately.

The probing questions, though gentle, were daggers into the reality that my actions weren’t just isolated incidents—they rippled through the fabric of all my relationships. Now, as dusk envelopes the landscape and crickets chirp their nighttime lullaby, I recognize the powerful grip my addiction had taken not only on me but on all those dear to me—on you, T, on our children, on James and his bride on what should have been a day unsullied by my negligence. In this letter, under the cloak of earnest reflection, I apologize once more. An apology that extends beyond the unseen ink of this page; an apology spoken into the silent expanse that stretches before me.

I may never be able to mend the threads of James’ wedding day, but here, within the healing grounds of this dedicated facility, I vow to become a man who can be trusted, a man who shows up, a man who lives aligned with his word. Please, T, hold my remorse in your tender memory and know that the lessons of the past are the stepping stones I tread towards a brighter, sober future. With each breath, I commit to being the man who honors his promises, who rights his wrongs, and who values the sanctity held within the roles given to him. With a heart seeking redemption,


In the stillness of our Benoni rehab center, we provide a sanctuary for confronting and overcoming the pangs of addiction-induced regrets. Today, a resident reflects on missed commitments, acknowledging the impact of his actions on loved ones. Seeking responsibility and trustworthiness, he embarks on a journey towards recovery and rebuilt relationships. If you’re ready to take the steps toward a dependable, sober life, please connect with us at, or call +27798378484 / +27828863996. Embrace the opportunity for change and healing within the caring environment of our facility.