One year ago, it was a cloudy November day and boy, could I feel the lack of serotonin. Depression encroached like an army of enemy forces, running silent and deep in the darkness for an ambush attack.

I was anxious to do or say the simplest of things.

From my table in the Atrium staring at the grey sky, I really wanted sushi. Jasmine and I had plans with grandma for dinner (at Taki), which were promptly cancelled because: “Grandma is having dinner with Wyatt,” Jasmine woke me up with.

My heart pounding, I drove up and down streets nearby the school looking for parking spots near the local sushi restaurants. I flipped through backup restaurants neurotically. Finally finding the sparse Japanese place past Center Point heading to Fairfax.

All the while deathly aware of how broke I was.

Reaching home felt like survival.

Fast forward a year to the day, and my cortisol levels are low, the sun and sky are bright, I’m going to book the Equus soon, go to LA, I’m planning a Vegas trip for my birthday, and about to start a mega well paying job.

Things change. We change.

“Yes, that’s true. As a twin flame, you have limited free will. But free will is not of use to you. Its of no use to your soul. Look at what your ego wants to do with your free will (date/have sex with other people). It wants to act like a rebellious child.”

“Can I just say, it’s so nice having a therapist in the family.”

However, it’s nice to know that once this job FORCES me to go to bed early, I’ll be FORCED into further (major) alignment.

“Bedtime at midnight tonight, no excuses.”

“I didn’t say tonight.”

“I think you did.”

“Let’s play it by ear.”

“It’s your treatment.”

Today I went researching new cars with my dad. The Acura Integra was much more striking in person than I had imagined. The finish of the interior was top notch. The knobs felt like expensive metals, the screen was vivid, the seat was snug in a sporty way, it just felt special to be in.

The Challenger felt crude in comparison. The interior has a dark, cool club-like atmosphere. When the salesman brought me the key, I knew to turn it on merely to hear the V8. Foot down on the brake, index finger on the ignition button. The rumble of the giant juvenile engine was felt in the chassis. Dad and I laughed.

The BMW place certainly has an “attitude,” the same one my grandma reports experiencing there in the late 90s. The salesman had strong “Marin Joe’s waiter” type vibe.

“My son just accepted a high paying job offer.”

When I told him my price range, dad says his face lit up.

When he followed the east coast douche into the used lot, I told my dad:

“The silver lining is that I can actually afford all these cars. It’s my choice what I want to drive.”

Receiving and accepting such a large job offer makes me feel so mature, empowered, respected, an important. I feel “executive,” whatever I may mean by that.

The Dark Night of The Soul

RIP

Nov 1 2020-(vaguely) October 2024

It was (n’t) nice knowing you.