A Run With The Bulls: For Love & Glory 2006

Prologue

July 10, 2006…the end of a ten-day European trip was nearing. The journey began in the Netherlands and went through the UK and down into Spain and back again. Two years had passed since my last trip across the Atlantic and I was eager to find out what had come of my Dutch friend, Selma, and take my chances at becoming a bull runner. The year had proven to be ruff. I found myself indefinitely out of graduate school and working intensely as a nightclub manager. After weeks of no-pay frustration, and missing money I was owed, I felt it was the right time to make the trip. Not necessarily the best financial move, but it was needed personal time.  As is my custom, I was off to Europe for perspective on the current events of my life and maybe a little adventure.  
_____________________________________________________________
Pamplona, Spain 

A reddish-orange color tinted the buildings and streets in the morning twilight. As the minutes passed, the morning’s light glow increased, and then, the sun came out. The streets were still filled with people walking around in the traditional festival colors of white and red. Jetting down the street toward the other side of town where the Welsh’s base camp was located, I thought about the girl I met the day before and the ease with which we connected despite one annoyance. It was nearly time to make it to the starting chute where we would begin our run with the bulls for the day. “One more chance at being a bull runner,” I thought and slightly whispered.

The loud crackle of deep snoring could be heard several feet from the car as I approached. The event was just over an hour away, and it was obvious the “boys” needed a little help waking up. Unlike the previous night’s sleep in the back seat of their car, I spent the night elsewhere. With a couple of taps on the car door window, the guys started to rouse. “Over-slept and apparently over-buzzed,” I thought while saying, “Another chance to run with the bulls!?” My flight out of Bilboa was now leaving earlier than previously planned not allowing for a third run. Within a few minutes, the boys were ready and we were off to join the numerous runners that were either still up from the previous night’s festivities or, like us, just barely entering back into reality.

As we arrived at the chute, we selected to start our run, cheers from the crowds standing in the hotel balconies and store windows filled the air. It was only 7:16 a.m. We waited for the police to do their crowd checking for cameras and other random things that could serve to cause a crowd of runners to trip or potentially hurt a bull. Eventually, the cannons would fire indicating the start of the run and necessarily the release of the bulls from the starting pen. The world-famous event was again in full swing. Every day for the duration of the celebration, six to eight bulls are guided down a winding and narrow pathway 800 meters in length into an arena where bullfighting would end the bulls’ day and ultimately their lives. The whole course is usually run within six to nine minutes—fast. “Maybe the day’s run would prove to be worthwhile,” I thought. It had to be. I was now leaving earlier than planned, and for a few moments, I regretted not chasing after the girl—again. I had wondered if I should’ve flown to the UK from Madrid affording me a little more time with her, but now, it was too late. The inevitable back-up plan, “sticking to the plan” mentality had kicked in.

“So many people already running again!” I said to Brian. “Bull-shitters!” He smirked. “They’ll get booed when they get into the stadium too soon,” he said while pointing out one of the well-known Spanish runners wearing green. The cannons hadn’t fired, but the masses had already started inching toward the arena in herd-like fashion. “Keep your eye on the Spanish guy. You run when he runs,” he said turning to take a moment to pay religious or spiritual homage to what seemed a variety of deities who might help. “Nervous today?” Brian asked wondering if the previous day’s encounter with the bulls birthed any fear into me. I could tell he was uneasy. “Not yet,” I replied calmly. “And the American girl…Carrie?” He smiled with a certain level of interest. “I put her and the Swedish kid in a taxi and sent them to the train station.” The Spanish guy noticed me and nodded his head at me in recognition of our conversation from the previous day. He too made the sign of the cross. “A Catholic,” I thought while recollecting odd childhood memories of my junior high school. Somehow I ended up with a Catholic nun as a godmother even though I wasn't Catholic, but she funded my early education that gave insight into what later in my life would be a reference point in my developing spiritual odyssey. 

I should’ve been nervous, but I wasn’t. The truth is I really didn’t care what might happen. If it was my time, I was ready. I had already seen more of the world than anyone I knew and had gone on many adventures while seeing it. I’d known the love of at least one good woman and had many other pleasant experiences with other girls and women alike. I had enough memories of my life to write a book. “A super-star from the projects,” I thought to look toward the sky whispering the remnants of once religious life, “Thank you, Father, for being good to me today. Thank you for having mercy on me.”

The American and the Swede’s train was bound for Madrid, and it left at 7:00 a.m. The early departure necessitated an early wake-up and afforded time enough to meet up with guys before the day’s run. I didn’t mention to the guys where I stayed. It was rude to not offer the gentlemen a chance to shower or at least a good shot at cleaning up. They had, for the most part, been every bit helpful to me even though we had only met a few days before in an airport in a completely different country. They were there to have a good time and share the experience. I was fortunate to run into them when I did. Otherwise, the time would have passed much differently or not at all considering the transportation problems due to the event.

Now, we were waiting for what the run might bring. Good or bad—it didn’t matter. We were attempting to live life to the fullest and every second seemed to count. Breathing a little more deeply and concentrating on every breath that eased out of me, I thought of a few people back home. With only a few seconds remaining, I sent out a text message to as many people as I could. It simply read, “One last run with the bulls…for love and glory.”  As the cannons fired, I hit the send button.
_____________________________________________________________

The Spaniard  

The Spaniard and I had met the day before at the Grand Plaza. We were watching Sunday’s playback of the run on the jumbo screen. Only this rendition of it had orchestra music attached to the various parts of the race with a few play-by-plays of previous events and runner misfortunes. I made light of the fact that it was one of my childhood dreams to run with the bulls and be a bull runner. Like most people who have dreams, following them typically comes second to work or school or the lack of money. Worse, someone might actually tell you can’t do something and you believe them.  Our dreams go from one list of things-to-do before age 25 to the things-to-do list before you hit 40.  Before you know it, dreams become part of a different past....a different person—the one you wanted to be and not the one you’ve become. The Spaniard laughed at first but then had a pondering look on his face. He smiled after a few seconds and told me I was lucky. “Lucky?” I said.  “People forget to dream or how to dream because of what you said; life gets in the way or we let other people tell us what we can do or be. You have to live in order to keep dreaming, but if you only dream and never go after those dreams, they become much less pleasant things in your mind's memory. So, you are lucky to be able to live this dream out and run with the bulls… Again tomorrow?” “Si,” smiling back in agreement.

The Welch guys disappeared after the first run on Sunday or maybe I just lost them. It was easy to do with everyone wearing white clothes with red neck and waist pieces. There were 100’s of people running that day. It was nearly impossible to stand and wait the hour before the cannons were fired. Finally, when they did, the mass of runners was so strong that standing off to the sides of the street to wait for the bulls to get closer was not an option—well at least not in that leg of the run. I was being pushed and yelled at to “Run!” So, as to not get trampled by the crowd, I started my way through the section of the coarse into the arena leaving a fair distance between the guys and me. “Meet at the jumbo screen if we get separated…” was our agreement. Now the task would be to find the jumbo screen.

I had no idea where the jumbo screen was, and when I thought about it, I had no idea where the car was either. I had spent every minute of my time with the Welsh guys since we met at the airport in Bilboa because my stuff was in their car. It was by chance that we began speaking to each other about our plans to run with the bulls at the airport terminal in London. I left my arrival at the event unplanned to see what opportunities might be available en route. The guys happen to offer me a ride down to the event in their rental after we met up again in Bilboa. Being as there were no buses available going to the event at that time of night, I kindly but cautiously accepted their offer.

But now, I didn’t know where they where. I had a general idea where the car was parked and might have been able to get directions to Danny’s bar—their base camp—but had no clear direction to go. The question was more a matter of belief; the boys seemed believable, and strangely, I was calm. I spoke the language and would only have to ask where to find things. If the guys had left with the car, I could always report the theft to the local authorities and maybe claim it on my travel insurance. All the real valuables, including my passport, were in my back pocket. I’ve done plenty of traveling to know where to keep those types of items. Honestly, I’m generally not a very trusting person of strangers or anyone else for that matter. I took a photo of the car and license plate with my camera phone “just in case” back at the airport. The boys, Brian and Tony, were seasoned bull runners and incidentally bothers. It would be there sixth time running the event. A few scars on their arms spoke of previous runs that hadn’t gone as well as planned. Having looked over the situation and the guys, I figure I could handle anything that might come up.

We arrived in town late parking on what I thought was the Northside of the Grand plaza. We wandered around finding pints of beer to drink and random seafood to eat. Before long we had made our way down to what would be known as “base-camp.”  Besides it including the car, a small street, and bar owned by a Basque gentleman named Danny, it’s where the boys would retreat to in between and after the day’s events. Just outside of the main town was a single level bar with a few apartment buildings and markets. The overflow parking lots were also located in the area filled with RV’s and people living out of their cars.
_____________________________________________________________

On the Straight Away

The frenzy had begun. Brian reminded me to mind the runners. They could trip in front of you, throw you off balance, run right into you—or worse, knock you over, which would lead to a trampling. Anything could happen. The bulls were at least a sure thing, but the runners—not so much. I watched the Spaniard and waited for him to make his move. We waited for the cameras to start flashing, and only then did he budge. Brian had crossed over to the other side of the road without my noticing. I started to walk along the roads edge with my feet at the ready allowing other people to run by. There were no outs in this section of the run; it was a straightaway with only store-fronts and balconies one floor level above the streets. The option to slip through the fence to safety was down another 100 or so meters—you had to run or get run over. The Spaniard and Brian had also started to move a little more briskly.

A hard-packed group of runners came into view. Just as they passed the Spaniard made a dash into the center of the road leaving an eight to ten-foot space between him and the bulls. Without knowing it, I was now nearly running. My left hand was out in front of me much like a football player pushing people out of the way. My right hand held a rolled newspaper to swat away a potential horn if I managed to not get out of the way in time or if the bull shifted his stride. The smell of sweat and body heat filled the air. I was in the middle of the crowd now attempting to decide which way to go.

I decided to wear a black polo shirt instead of the traditional all-while shirt and pants in order to stick out in the crowd for a potential television opportunity. The red handkerchief and sachet were affixed to me loosely so as to not give the bulls something to catch with their horns if things got rough. Looking back quickly, the Spaniard had crossed over to the right side of the road staying just arm’s length away from the lead bull. He was now less than 15 feet behind me and closing fast. One of the runners fell in front of me nearly sending me into a tumble. As I staggered forward back into a run, the packed group of guys pressed me toward the wall creating a human barrier between the bulls and me. As I turned to look, two of the bulls passed within a foot of the guy next to me as the others passed behind them. The Spaniard was out of the way concluding his run for the day. All of this in less than two minutes or so.

The danger had passed. Brian yelled from across the way, “Good run mate!… Good run!” The Spaniard also waved and yelling out “bull runner,” in Spanish. Again, I was filled with a certain type of emotion I’ve only experienced crossing a marathon finishing line. My throat tightened and my eyes slightly teared. I had accomplished something significant. I had accomplished one more thing I was told only certain people could do. Attempting to brush off the emotion, Brian and I headed down the road to find out what had come of Tony. When we found him, he was yapping with a few other runners who had also had good runs. We were all interested in a pint of beer to celebrate, and after a few laughs, I dismissed myself. I had to retrieve my things from the hotel room assuring the guys I would catch them at Danny’s Bar as soon as I could.

It was still early and there was enough time to shower and get in a nap. When I got to the room, 
I hit the bed hard detecting the slight scent of a woman. “I at least got a chance to entertain her a little,” I thought and half said. “A gentlemen till the end,” closing my eyes. A few minutes passed before the sounds of the people and cars on the street below dulled as I drifted to sleep. 

_____________________________________________________________
The Harvard Girl

The girl was sweet and more courteous to the Swede than he really earned from his behavior and conversational tone the previous night. Like the girl and the Swede, I was trying to find a way out of town. My original plan was to stay another two days, which would’ve been fine except there were no rooms to rent and no showers to be had. After spending a good night of drinking, a full day sweating with nowhere to really rest, sleep or shower, I was dirty and wanted an out. The only answer to the situation was to change my flight plan or at least see if it was an option leading me to the only internet place in town that was open. This is where I met the American and her Swedish friend.

“What the hell am I doing here!” I mentioned to myself attempting to make sense out of the directions I was given. The town’s roads were winding and circular like most cities in Europe. I was lost and tired from the heat of the day. “Relax. You’ll find the café and see what the options are and then be concerned. No need to worry before you have something to worry about.” I thought. I half laughed when I finally found the right road. I dislike making decisions that will cost me money because of a day’s emotional ups or downs. You never really know why you might be feeling more or less irritable on any given day. You could be tired. You might be hungry. You might’ve had a bad cocktail, and sometimes it’s just loneliness…or any combination of the three. Knowing this, I waited till after breakfast to hunt out the café. While I ate, I reflected and wrote in my journal of my mind-set, the trip thus far and Selma my Dutch friend from a few years back. I had only connected with two people this leg of the trip, the Welsh fellows, and wondered if it was going to become a more reflective time. Whichever the case, I needed to know the options.

The café was small and had a dozen computers with nearly as many English-speaking tourists attempting to make sense of train schedules. I smiled speaking Spanish to the café attendant hiding my language and citizenship.  As people planned the next leg of their trips, I listened to a girl give her account of being robbed while asleep in one of the nearby parks or ‘grassy knolls’ as it was. “They took our money, our ID’s and we missed our train back to Madrid,” she said. She was American and probably from the Midwest judging by her accent. I shook my head and smiled recalling other tourists I’d encountered with similar stories on previous trips. It’s a tough situation to deal with when you’re able to speak the local language, but they couldn’t speak Spanish making matters worse. To 'improve' their situation, many of the normal tourist outlets were closed during the festival or because it was Sunday making it hard for the girl to fix whatever problem she was having with her credit card. “SOL,” I thought… and as I turned to mind the screen, Bowie started to play in my head, “…cause love is such an old fashioned word…and love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night…

As she went on, I came into full awareness that the schedules on EasyJet don’t have the most favorable pricing for last-minute changes. The price in British pounds and fees were steep. As I pondered the cost of potentially leaving early and weighed it against the situation of being homeless, dirty and in extreme heat for a couple of more days, I detected a change in the American’s tone of voice—she was about to lose it... "...This is ourselves under pressure."

Turning in my chair, I asked where she was from in the US hoping to help distract her from the on-coming Niagara Falls. “Michigan…well Boston as of late,” she said. “You speak English,” she replied back with more stability in her voice probably having noted my entrance into the place and my use of Spanish with the attendant. “Yes.  American and Spanish. I’m working on getting out of town. The festival is a bit filthier than I bargained for. I’m looking at flights out of Bilboa. If you give me a few minutes, I might be able to help you.” A slight look of relief came over her face. For a few more moments, I putz around on the website looking at fares into London from Bilboa and Madrid. Finally, I clicked the “Accept Changes” button and turned my attention toward the girl.

Introducing myself to the attendant, who was trying to help the girl out and understand what she needed, I motioned the girl to come over and explain what had happened. The two, her and the Swedish guy, were in town for a couple of days to celebrate the festival with a group of American students out of Madrid. They had managed to break away from the group and got lost after they had had a few too many pints. The rest of the group left town not knowing what had happened. It would’ve been impossible to find them among the thousands of tourists and must've figured they would just show up on the next train back to Madrid. Good thought but impossible without a phone, currency or any legal Ids, and her Ivy Leaguer card probably wouldn’t cut it but did raise a few mental notes.

After working out a few details with the train station, the café’s attendant got a couple of tickets put on hold for the next morning. The only problem might be not having the card to present when they picked up the tickets, but it was better than nothing and would serve as a short piece of mental hope. I was unclear if the two were actually an 'item' or just caught together in an awkward situation. It shouldn’t have mattered. I just wanted to be helpful, but as the girl continued to converse with me about their experience I began to take a slight interest in her. Wondering what their plans might be for the rest of the day, I asked, “Are you two involved?” Yes. I'm that kind of a direct person. 

It was a question the Swede necessarily found too intrusive but not sure how to answer looking to the girl for guidance. The American was quick to respond with a “No.” 
“I only ask because if you have to stay in town overnight, it’ll make a difference in the cost of accommodation,” I said to legitimize my inquiry.
“We don’t have any money or credit. What does it matter,” she said.
“I’m not sure about you, but I’ve been dying for a shower and a place to sleep besides the back seat of a very small car or a bench out in the open. I ran into a few places with vacancies trying to find this place. If I can find a one that’s available, I would share the room with you two. Your train leaves tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. What are you going to do till then?” A question I already knew the answer to but wanted them to come to grips with on their own.

I asked politely distracting them from the obvious—they still had nearly a full day before their three-hour train ride to Madrid; they had nowhere to go or stay, much less to eat or drink, till then. Without thinking about it, I gave Carrie a realtor card with all my basic contact information to help validate my identity but really to provide an opportunity for her to contact me if she was interested. A silence arose between the two.  The time read 12:27 p.m. and the day had really only started to warm up as the sun reached its zenith. The two still needed a hand. As they continued going over ideas, I asked the attendant the cost and time of busses, cabs that went to the station. And invited them to join me as I made a trip to a cash machine.

“I spent a good long while figuring out how to get to this spot on the running course today. More because of the ATM but also because it’s where the internet place is.” I mentioned giving them a few more moments to think. The girl was taking in the scene while attempting to stay cool. “Here’s 40 Euros. It’s not much. You’ll need some basic things between now and when you leave tomorrow. You can mail me a postcard or something when you make it back to the States or wherever it is you’re going to out of Madrid.” I smiled handing the notes to the girl. She politely refused but eventually accepted the offer. I was going to leave the two to fate but extended them an offer to join me at the Welsh’s base-camp. That is, of course, they didn’t have anything better to do. Without too much hesitation, they joined me. I was hoping they would. I was interested in what the girl was like and what she knew of the world considering she was among the bright and wealthy at Harvard. As we walked, the two listen as I regurgitate newly acquired knowledge of the bull-running coarse and the history of the festival. I admit I knew nothing of the event’s set-up or anything about the town for that matter. I usually leave those details for points of conversation that I might be useful in a conversational lull or to avoid sounding like a babbling idiot. It’s a practice I began early on in my traveling days to keep social and for exposure to new things.

Giving the girl the money was for obvious reasons—she didn’t have any, and she needed it. Also, I wanted her to feel they were free to leave anytime necessarily allowing them to regain control of their circumstances if they chose to do so. Autonomy was now hers in between the two of them but also in the situation at large. If she elected to spend any further time with the Swede or me, it would be a free choice and because she wanted to. The money was obligation-free. If she chose to not interact with me any further, I would’ve been fine with it, but for the few moments, I hoped she would hang around for a bit. Speaking English with someone was nice and a break from the silence.

These types of social interactions are the norm in certain factions of culture. It’s a kind of show of arms except it’s more about the gesture and its presentation than the actual favor or gift. People will go to great lengths to avoid feeling obligated, and I wanted to save anyone from that sentiment. Sharing with the two what I learned that day from the locals was fun, and I did it much like a school kid would to his parents after an interesting lesson from school. More importantly, as we walked to the Welsh’s base-camp, I noticed something taking place in the air between the girl and me. Between glances and when the Swede was looking off into the sky or rambling on about this or that experience he had to offer up, an eye of exchange happened. “Hmm,” I thought, The Swede also noticed as the early signs of what he considered to be competition were now making their way into his method of conversation. I kept a positive mood for the walk and paid him little attention.  

At base-camp, the attendant brought out a few bottles of water and a few dishes of food for that time of the day. It was just after 2:00, and the boys hadn’t made it back from their excursion through town. When they finally did arrive, introductions were made and conversations between the Swede and the Welsh guys went immediately into the World Cup final happening that night. As they yapped, I made small talk with the girl attempting to learn more about her summer plans and the events that lead up to the grassy knoll event. She was tall and her hair was sandy-blond—it was pulled back into a pony-tail much like tennis player's. Her teeth were straight and strikingly white compared to the rest of her. She was reserved but very aware of her surroundings and, more importantly, well mannered. As the hours passed, I continued ignoring the Swede’s attempt to draw us into his conversation with the Welsh guys. There seemed to be much to learn about the girl and not enough time to do it. Eventually, the guys decided it was time to go visit the bullpen where the next day’s running bulls were kept for public viewing.

It was a good time to leave the Welsh guys to do their thing while we did ours. For our part, this consisted mainly of the Swedish guy rambling on about relationships and the freedom and control women should have in them, the occasional odd fact about his past experiences with drugs, and my tactical use of his logic to point out his blatant disregard for the principles he was attempting to promote in the present situation—namely letting the girl decide she could do what she wanted. As it was, there seemed to be good potential for a little romance with the girl, but there was the issue of what to do with the Swede. Do we leave him roam around for a bit while we found better things to do and agree to meet him at a certain place? Do we watch the game and catch up with each other after the fact? Ask him to politely to give us a little time on our own? What!? Then, the obvious occurred to me—if he didn’t have direct access to the girl, he would avoid going anywhere. I suppose I should give him a little credit for that interesting show of chivalry.  

This fact posed an interesting dilemma for me. If I try to move anything between the girl and me any further than he was comfortable with, it might verify whatever story he was feeding the girl about my “real” intentions for extending them a helping hand. Or the reverse, if I just left them to chance, it might have verify his suspicions of my intentions only giving him credit as having warded me off by interfering in every bit of conversation possible and placing himself between the two of us every step of the way to project he was in control. I could already see Carrie was annoyed by the Swede, and despite her annoyance, she stuck it out with him. She wouldn’t leave him. “Loyal to a guy she doesn’t know, but the ethics of the situation call for it and she responded. Hmmm. Quality.” I thought to myself further assessing the situation. As the night progressed, I did the only thing I could do—I acted as gentlemen giving the girl, as the Swede had purported women should do, every opportunity to choose what she wanted and included the Swede even if it was on my dime. Later, we watched the World Cup Final at a pub I had gotten coffee from earlier that morning and took a final spin around the town getting a little buzzed of the festival’s legendary “Calle Mucho,” which is a drink made of a cheap wine variant and coca-cola. Yeah. It was ruff.  

The room was a few blocks from where the pub was located making it easier for the three of us to go and shower at our own pace while the other two could enjoy the scenery outside or continue watching the game. I took the first shower while the two stayed and watched the game. The room was small and had one big problem—there was only one bed with a ceiling fan directly above it. The mattress was a little smaller than a queen-size one. I had told the owner of the place that there would be two of us staying in the room so as to get the lower rate, but it also meant, I would be sharing the bed, or as I inquired earlier—with to uninvolved strangers!? I laughed fully realizing that it was bigger than the back seat of the Welsh’s rental. I made my way down to the bar wearing the cleaner of my remaining gear—a black polo and white shorts.

Getting back to the bar, the crowd began to yell as one of the Italians head-butted another player. Then, the kicking shoot-out giving the Italian’s the win. Joining the two, the girl smiled. “The shower was nice,” I said. “I can’t wait to get clean,” she mentioned turning to the bartender and necessarily to the Swede indicating her eagerness to shower. He was hesitant to give any response but eventually started commenting on some historical piece of information on the event. We made our way back to the hotel where we quietly made our way into the room. As the girl got her things together, I invited the Swede to join me for a beer or something attempting to not seem annoyed by him. As we sat on the patio outside the hotel bar, a silence rose between us. I was caught up in the scene. We were at a busy intersection with nearly five corners all leading to different places in the city. Attempting to remember which we needed to take to the main plaza, I vaguely heard the Swede mention something. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it seemed as though he was tired and wanted to stay in. “He wants to stay in?” I thought and noticed that a half-hour had passed. Getting up and making my way to the door, I mentioned I was going to check on the girl and would be back in a few moments. He intended to get up, but then suddenly realized he maybe should stay put.

As I got to the room, the door was slightly open. She was sitting on the bed combing her hair. She looked up slightly. Whatever she used to clean up with permeated the air and smelled amazing. “Hmm. The scent of a woman.” I thought. “How was the shower?” “Feels good to be clean and fresh. Where’s Rasmus?” She said continuing to brush through her hair. “I left him on the patio,” I whispered moving toward her. A few seconds went by as we realized we were, for the first time, alone. I tilted her head toward me and kissed her on the lips. Well, kind of. She didn’t really contribute to the event. As male instinct would have it, I went right for the lips in auto-pilot mode not being sensitive to the whole thing. I hoped to have another chance at it later, maybe. “It might not be the right time. Maybe there’s someone else,” I thought. She was hesitant. I noted it immediately and kissed her on the forehead inviting her to join me in finding the Swede minimizing any awkwardness of my romantic inclinations. It was the best thing to do and only that—kiss her on the forehead.


Approaching us with a look of eagerness, the Swede waited to hear what had just taken place. Fifteen minutes had passed since I left and we had come back. “We’re gonna grab a beer while you hit the shower and maybe run around for a bit. You mentioned you were tired, and I thought it might work out to meet up with you in a short while.” Hoping he might get the hint, and he did, he declined to take a shower and decided to make the scene with us. “I suppose.” I thought. Much like earlier in the day, a verbal jousting contest took place between the two of us, which ultimately ended up in a few long moments of silence only interrupted by the droves of people partying to their hearts’ content and the occasional couple going a little too far right there in front of you. It fit the bill for the place as most people took it upon themselves to urinate anywhere they could find a wall for a target. Beyond the filth, and in the smiles and screams of laughter in the air was real life happening. It transcended the small things and brought me into a higher plane of thought and appreciation for life as if I understood the Universe in a few brushstrokes of thought. I again glanced over at the girl only to find her staring right back. As the moments passed we continued to communicate silently. The remaining time went by without our mouths really opening other than to scuff at the Swede’s insanity. I found a deep sense of satisfaction getting to play the role of hero for the girl. I wanted to spend more time with her, but the clock was ticking.  

_____________________________________________________________
The Alarm Clock

The sound of the alarm clock came all to quickly. Without too much effort, we gathered their things and were out the door. It was just after 6:00 a.m. The night had passed in a manner that could only be described as, at best—odd. The girl slept between the Swede and me probably making it a little uncomfortable as the room was a bit warm. The two had gotten under the sheets. I took the cooler option placing myself on top of the sheets and closest to the door. Either way, the silence in the room by itself was enough to drive anyone mad. Eventually, I passed out only to wake occasionally to the scene of the Swede spooning the girl. “Nice, and I paid for the room,” I thought and probably said under my breath.

The direction that the train station was in was a bit of a mystery. Without thinking about it, I flagged down a taxi paid the driver giving him instructions as to where to deliver the two, and I sent them off. I hugged the girl goodbye attempting to enjoy her embrace one last time while asking her to text me when she got into Madrid. “Find me if you need anything,” I said to her in a soft voice. As the two drove off, the lyrics from some tune started to play in my mind. I started to sing the song as I found my direction and started walking quickly down the roadway. I didn’t think that I’d see her again, but we shared a moment that would last till the end. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. It’s true. I saw your face in a crowded place, and I don’t know what to do cause I’ll never be with you. …” As thoughts of how the story would read one day came to mind, I had to stop and ask which direction the arena was located making sure I was at least walking in the right direction. “One more!” I thought as the building started to take on a reddish-orange color in the morning light. It was time to make the scene.   

_____________________________________________________________

Knock, knock, knock. “What the..?!” I thought. Maybe I had slept too long and was now at or near check-out time. The time on my watch read 45 minutes past the time I had hit the bed. Knock, knock, knock. “Who is it?” I asked in Spanish. From the rustling in the hall, a familiar voice spoke. It was the girl. By the tone in her voice, something had was off. Opening the door, she stood just ahead of her Swedish friend. “What happened?” I said nearly guessing the events exactly. The train station wouldn’t run the card number without the actual card or without a passport for identification purposes. It wasn’t as tragic as it seemed; the Swede had proven to be useful and managed to find a few contributors to their tragic story fund. And with the remaining money I gave the girl, they bought a couple of bus tickets leaving for Madrid departing in a couple of hours. As we walked out of the room, I took a few moments to appreciate the fact the girl had come to me. “Why? She didn’t need to; she already had a bus ticket to get out of town and back to Madrid. She was free.  Probably not going to make it back in time for her flight out but at least back and out of this mess.” I thought.  Now I had time. Time to spend with the girl, and time to assess what to do with the situation as a whole.

The reason the girl came to me was unclear, but it didn’t matter. There she was in front of me, and all I needed to do was take all of her all in. The temperature was, again, unbearable and it was still mid-morning. I dismissed the Swede and instructed him to meet us at the bus station, only this time I wasn’t suggesting it. “Don’t worry. I’ll get her back in time to board the bus. We walked around to the tourist station for her to find a number for the airline she was flying out on later that day and to her credit card company. Instead of wasting time looking for a tourist office, we should’ve just relaxed and enjoyed the extra time.

There were things for her to be concerned; she was part of a research team out of Harvard that would be leaving without her later that day. Any direct instructions that would be issued to the group were going to be missed and would need to be made up along the way necessarily robbing her of due participation credit. It was a trivial thing to most people in the working world but the bread and butter of a graduate student. It was then that I could finally appreciate she was an Ivy Leaguer. A research team for a few weeks in Greece nearly cost-free isn’t the run of the mill credit generating activity. My previous encounters with the guardians of knowledge had generally ended in less constructive conversations on the mission fields where their lives afforded them the opportunity to ‘give-back’ to the very people they exploited. I suppose.

Reassuring her that everything would be fine, we walked toward the bus station. If she needed to stay another night, she would be my guest. But, she wanted to go. The look in her eye was now turned to getting to Madrid, and it was obvious the girl wasn’t used to this type of an unplanned event. Most people generally aren’t. They live their lives day to day never thinking that anything could happen potentially changing their world forever if not ending it. You could be in a car accident. You could be shot. We could be bombed. Anything could destroy a person’s paradigm and their reality. Unlike the Isrealies who grow up living in a state of constant awareness, most people go into trauma the instant something goes wrong. Fortunately, I’d been trained to search for the anomaly—the thing or event that might send the masses into a panic, and short of falling prey to the mass-mind, we have a plan. With a few other odd pieces of conversation, we made it to the train station again finding the Swede eagerly awaiting her arrival. “You win.” I thought realizing it might be the last time I saw the girl. If there was to be any further communication, it would have to come from her. Their bus was boarding. She again thanked me for the hand I had extended them. “Water!” I said handing the two a couple of bottles. This came as a surprise as I had boarded the bus just before it was about to depart. A last-minute gesture. It was really nothing but everything that needed to happen at that point in the trip giving the running of the bulls a new meaning…a new memory.

_____________________________________________________________

As the bus pulled down the street, I watched for the two through the window. They were busy yapping about something. The moment had gotten intense for me. I was watching the highlight of the trip, thus far, drive off on a bus that I wasn’t on. I thought to run after the bus and drop everything I was doing and just continue my trip from wherever the bus would take me. All the important things were with me. I would lose a few key things leaving my bag as I did, but I had Brian’s mobile number. If necessary, I would contact him and make arrangements to pick up the bag in London or pay him to ship it. A few other thoughts of the nature came to mind, but the fact of the matter was, I was walking down the street toward base-camp again.

“Why did the girl come back to me after the train station incident?” The question continued to be on the forefront of my mind. I had stuck to the plan the first time she was to leave. I stuck to the plan. But, she disrupted it the ease with which I let her go earlier in the day. I had already sold myself on the “nice memory” play out and really had not planned on hearing from her again. Why would she bother; she’s an Ivy Leaguer, and I’m not. She must be wealthy, and I’m nearly broke. The situation isn’t exactly how I planned it, but then again, I realize we don’t always get to plan things—we have to respond to them whole-heartedly because our lives might depend on it. Bible stories, storylines from various authors and odd cultural tails from my childhood resurfaced with more or less the same theme--all we have to do is show up. Do I go after the girl or do I continue to stick to the plan?

Instead, I walked back into the bus station and asked when the next bus to Bilboa and Madrid were leaving. The desk clerk pointed to a schedule on the wall. “6:00 PM." It was enough time to find the guys, get my stuff, and develop a plan on how I might find the girl in Madrid. It would be a big shot into the dark but at least a calculated one. There are only so many airliners that depart MAD at the 5:00 pm hour bound for the islands. I could track them to the respective terminal and hit the check in-line. The odds of connecting with her might improve if she did text. I might be able to call the phone she texted me on and find a place to meet her. After all, she was headed to Madrid a city that has always been good to me in the past, and I knew her like the back of my hand.  

This back and forth calculating scenario went on for the duration of my walk back to Welsh’s base-camp. Determining it was situational and really just a rip in the normal ordinance of things, I continued to walk. I was still a little bent about what had just transpired and probably suffered a little from what appeared to be the signs of heatstroke. I thought about the conflict I had lost with the university temporarily putting my doctorate career in suspension. I thought about the job I took on to cover my expenses and the fact that it wasn’t paying me and owed me a significant amount of cash. The financial gap between being off the federal dole and next to nothing income was catching up with me. It was why I was on the trip. “One last Hoo-Rahh,” as the chair committee person put it to me ending my last term in the program and the student publication I created to broadcast my political ideology. It proved to be useful to motivate the administration to take action from time to time. Little did they know I had found asylum at another university slowly beginning the march up the mountain. I was taking charge of my life again signified by being there right in the middle of another world-class event and my election to run another marathon.

“It must end here.” I said as I arrived, but it’s time to face the truth. I will never be with you. It was a hard pill to swallow. In fact, the emotion of giving up that easily started to choke me. I had worked too hard and tactically to get to that point in my life—the point where economics, class, culture and education mattered little when stripped of their social ramifications. We are all the same—human beings—with similar needs and wants. And like every other person brought up to believe there’s a special person waiting for you meet them, or in my case, catch up with them somewhere in the world. I’m a hopeful romantic in that regard. I had been fighting the good fight to be free and available to share a lane of life with to where ever it might take us.

I waited for the guys to make it back. It was hot, and I was starting to go delirious. I couldn’t drink enough water to keep up with what I was losing in sweat. A few French kids were babbling about something at the table next to me, and the bar owners were on break making food unavailable. As I wrote in my journal, I tried to make sense of why the girl came back to the room. It was a mystery or at least the heatstroke experience was clouding my judgement making it a little more difficult to think it out. I must’ve drifted into a daydream because I was now on the bus kindly chastising the Swede for his chauvinistic commentary and simultaneously praising them both for sticking with each other. “She didn’t leave you.” I mentioned to him. Eventually, the scene changed and I was on the beach in Mexcio relating to the Germans again. Only this time, we were laughing at the tale I told of how we met and ponder what role the American girl would play if I caught up with her in Madrid. “Madrid has always been good to you,” Michella said to me. I laughed because it was true.  As the dialog continued, I realized it wasn’t just the Germans I was relating to but also my Swedish friend Kim from pre-requisite school, Selma the Dutch, the Mexican, Alicia, and all the people I had met from the beginning of my travels. As each told their tale on how we met and what part I played in their lives, I laughed and attempted to see the larger plan of my life even if it wasn’t obvious at the moment.

As the conversations continued and same question repeated, “What are you going to do?” As the long awaited reunion of old friends carried on, Brian shook my shoulder asking, “What are you going to do…today? “Are you Ok lad?” He asked offering me a bottle of water. I was drenched with sweat and must have looked a little delirious. “We’re going to the pool to cool off. You’re welcome to come along.” There are showers there.” He smiled. “It was a good run today wasn’t it!” He continued laughing and motioning me in the direction of the car.

When we got to the place it was supposed to be parked, it was gone. The city must’ve towed it or it was stolen. Fortunately for all of us, I had taken a photo of the car and it’s license plate making it easy to identify if it really was missing. We spent the next hour attempting to find the city’s tow lot. When we finally did arrive, it took all of ten minutes to pay the fine, get the car and leave toward the pool. The guys found it interesting that I took the photo of the car. I simple mentioned it might’ve been useful if I ever needed to describe the car, which had just proven to be the case. In reality, if my judgement was wrong about the two and I turn up missing, eventually someone would come across the photo in someone’s camera phone or my email. Or, if an insurance claim was necessary, I had some evidence. Either way, it was a subtle precaution.

The pools and shower proved to be refreshing, but ultimately gave me too much time to think. It was now later afternoon and surely the girl had made it back to Madrid by then or soon would be. “She’s probably got people waiting for the bus to pull up. That takes an hour max before she makes it to her friend’s place; it’ll take another couple of hours to relax and get clean; and then dinner, which will probably take place later like 10ish. So, maybe I’d get a text from her then…plus or minus an hour.” I calculated in my mind. For some reason, I was still trying to plan out a search and find mission with the little information I had. The bus ride to Madrid was five hours in duration and the last bus for it left at 6:00 PM.  If I hustled, I might make the 5:00pm pending it wasn’t sold out. The guys decided to hit-up a few pints before the day cooled some bringing out the crowds from the shade. I had left my gear bag with one of the bar attendants this time around having established a little repour with the staff. The move would prove to be useful in the moments to come.

The beer was cold and the dim light of the bar welcoming. The heat index read somewhere between 105-110 degrees. As cold as the beer was, I should’ve been drinking water. I was still dehydrated and still suffering from heatstroke symptoms. As the guys babbled on about the cup, it came to me. “I could get on the bus, sleep some, make it to a pension in Madrid and meet the girl for lunch before she left.” I said this not realizing the guys had a lull in their conversation and were wondering what I was talking about. “The girl. You want to go after the girl! Brian said accusingly. I suppose the pointed statement brought a certain kind of decision process because I said yes, and as I said it, a surge of energy shot through me. Within moments, I dismissed myself from the guys mentioning my plan in short and was off to collect my bag and make it to the bus station. As I arrived, the line was out the door. All the busses to Madrid were full. “Next option, bus to Bilboa and wait.” I thought. It was the sensible thing to do as my flight was scheduled to leave out of Bilboa the following morning. In the event I didn’t hear from the girl, I would at least be in a better position to leave Spain without feeling I didn’t try.
_____________________________________________________________
Bilboa, Spain

    The city was starting to quiet. It was dark and nearing 10:00pm. The bus-ride had gone by without incident except for a drip from a leak in the AC condensation line hitting my head every now and then. Bilboa looked much different than it had from my previous visit nearly a decade ago. I made my way around to find if any busses leaving the station were headed to Madrid only to find it impossible to do till morning. I hadn’t heard from the girl, but I was determined to be within range. My muscles ached and my head felt as if it was going to explode—the signs that heat exhaustion might get the best of me if I didn’t get more fluid in me and find a place to rest.

I was now getting closer to my target town. Sometimes you just have to make the scene for things to happen. You never really know. It’s better to show up and not wonder than to wonder for the rest of your life. Reminding myself again, I found the train station, which I discovered the next train out to Madrid was leaving in a few minutes. It was now or some unforeseen moment in the future. Decisions of this nature are usually easy to make, but as the beating at the back of my head got worse, and not having any confirmation the girl was in Madrid, I headed for the street. It was late, and I didn’t have anywhere to stay till morning and nowhere to buy water and some salt and sugar. I got on the metro headed toward the city centrum hoping to find a pension with a vacancy. Operating with limited funds, it would be helpful to save a few Euros and use them in London where hopefully I might find a Scottish friend, Nicola, or a room to rent for the night.

Finding the room was easy. Finding somewhere to pick up a bite to eat and maybe a random internet place was harder. “God. The weather’s at least nice and the scene is descent.”  I thought walking down the road toward one of the town’s PC hubs. As I thought about the trip and all that it signified in relationship to the rest of my life, I laughed. I was looking for love—still chasing a dream that offered strength and guidance to me in times past. All the places I’d visited and spent countless hours on buses, trains and plane rides had led me to this point in my life—walking down an unfamiliar road waiting for a text message to come in. The slight smell of burning wood passed through the night air. “This is our last dance. This is ourselves…under pressure,” the Bowie tuned played as random thoughts of Selma the Dutch came to mind. Three trips to the Netherlands to no real avail except the side stories that happen during and along the way to her. But, between us, at least for a few moments, we reached an understanding of each other—an appreciation for the existence of the other. I did get a few stories to tell the world about in the process of it all, but I didn’t get the girl. “Ha ha ha!” I laughed.

P.S.
There are a number of stories I wrote in the years that followed, and I will give you a few spoilers. I published this story the day after a surgery for cancer I had to undergo. Well, a friend of mine posted it just in case I didn't actually make. 
Eventually, I resumed the chiropractic program at Palmer's College of Chiropractic West where I finished the program in June of 2010. Since then I've managed to work both in Minnesota and California where I've treated a number of the most famous people on the planet. It has been my humble privilege to exchange words with a historical figure's children and remember that all things are one and written by the same hand if you happen to subscribe to spiritual ideologies of old 

I'm presently friends with all of the people I mentioned in the story thanks to FB and some old school writing actual letters. I may write a follow-up story for my most recent running of the bulls experience and bring you up to speed on what else has happened since my days of being ubiquitous. 

The Trilogy: I.This Unbelievable Life. II. Recovery: Survivng & Reconstructing The Dream. III.The Pursuit of Happiness.

This Unbelievable Life. 

PROLOGUE

It's February 13, 2013 and I'm at the top of a canyon I climb pretty regularly in this picture. If you look closely, there near the neck-line of my shirt you can see a nearly fine line where I was sliced open to remove a cancer tumor that was gonna kill me just a few short weeks ago. What you don't see in the picture is the gal that I was living with when I came into knowing I was dealing with a life-threatening situation and what transpired since then. We climbed this canyon together regularly when our schedules allowed, but now, as in the picture, she's gone, and I'm alone. Was it the shock of the condition that was too much for her to 'handle'? Was it the strain of leaving our homeland to come to a strange and demanding one freshly out of a divorce that got to much for her...or was it something else? All "chance" and a mistake? Or, was it "destiny" that brought our paths together nearly two years ago in a familiar Irish pub downtown Minneapolis one fine Memorial Day weekend...? It's hard to say with all that's occurred in my life on the whole. Since I left graduate school two years prior in San Jose, I'd been everything from homeless; to having three different apartments in different cities; being flown around as a world-class corporate trainer in health and wellness to my current role a doctor at one of the most exclusive clubs in the country in the middle of Beverly Hills, CA. A life....I had a life to talk about. I still do, and it's part of this story that I hope you'll enjoy cause it's all true...it's all real.  There is some romance; there is tragedy; there is hope; there is even that thing we all want to experience....love and compassion; I had a dream, and it had come true... at least for a little while...in its own way.

January 22, 2013  North Memorial Hospital, Minneapolis, MN.  

12:30 PM. One hour before the surgery start time.
"Hey Doc," said my chief surgeon as he stood in the entry to the surgery preparation room where I was sat waiting. I smiled. "It looks like your blood pressure is still sky high....," he said with a half look of concern but yet pleasant demeanor. It was true. My blood pressure seemed to go onto a hot air balloon ride and was hovering around 195/140. It had steadily risen the last three months for likely and some 'not-so-obvious reasons. We had already discussed all the possible outcome scenarios of the surgery a few weeks prior. I had to laugh; it was my way of dealing with the gravity of the situation--serious. With a 55% survival rate because of arterial involvement, I could only laugh knowing the BP was only decreasing that percentage; I usually laugh or smile like there's nothing bad happening in my reality...my movie. All the while, I'm carefully calculating in my head the way in, or as it was in this situation, the way through to whatever tune is playing in my thoughts (Bon Iver's "Flume").

"I have a request or two, Sir," I said humbly. The situation was completely out of my hands. A feeling I was never really used to experiencing.

"If any of the less favorable outcomes start to come into play, please don't have my family informed till it's over. Until I've breathed my last breath. We wouldn't want a waiting room full of people having heart attacks...that might not go over so well with for the hospital's rep! Hahahaha. " I said laughing and slightly joking.

"Also, if the odds start to go against me, please have your doc attempt to bring me out from anesthesia as much as possible. I want to see my end coming. I don't want to miss it," I said with some level of determination.

"I'll have that discussion with the anesthesiologist. You'll get to talk to her too, shortly," he said.

As he left, I felt neither afraid nor sad that I was going into life-saving surgery. I skipped by the philosophical debates with myself or even with the Almighty that attempted to answer the questions, "why me, why now?" It was just maybe my time, and if it was, "I figured I better show up and see what would happen." Which ever the case, I came to my home state to be with my family and friends. More importantly, I had not come to live, but rather, I came to die...to end the life and the person I was till that very day. All that I had become; all that had transpired between the months leading up to that day had to end. It was really out of my hands and up to those of a skilled surgeon--whether I was going to live and have a different life or just have people read about my old life..either of them would be likely found unbelievable.

The Anaesthesiologist & The Surgery Prep Room
When she came into the room, I asked her to sit. We started talking like people would when meeting for the first time at a coffee shop or grabbing a happy hour cocktail. I asked her where she was from, if she had any children, and how she got into becoming an anesthesiologist, etc. We chatted for a few moments, and then she gave me the talk about coming out of it, or at least coming back into consciousness, during the procedure if needed. I look her dead in the eye as she spoke, periodically looking at the land-line phone next to where she sat. I was getting eager to call Fae but was waiting to hear if what I was asking for was even possible. She said, "Yes." But there were risks involved which may or may not have matter considering the condition I was asking to be brought up in...nearing my end. She was sweet and to the point, but vaguely uneasy as if I was supposed continue the conversation.

Somehow, hearing what I was asking for was possible started a different song track playing in my head, "...there was a time, I met a girl of a different kind.. "(S.H.M.). It was then that the doctor sitting in front of me, the anesthesiologist, pointed out my heart rate monitor had gone up noticeably. I had this reaction when I thought of the girl, all our time together, and the struggle that ensued between us and one other person up until the day I flew home to MN. I was somewhere between giddy, sad, calm, and anxious in my emotions instantly as I sat looking at the phone. I had an hour left to sort out some of those emotions and speak calmly and lovingly to Fae knowing full-well what was transpiring in our Hollywood home in my absence. Some of those minutes would be spent giving instructions to my liaison on texting the groups with my blackberry about my surgical progress; some of that hour would be spent saying 'good-bye' to my family. And, of course, taking the very last of those minutes to call her and listen to her voice one last time.

I starred at it--the land-line phone--wondering what the conversation would be like in those few minutes between us. Most of our last conversations were tumultuous involving high emotions, disagreements on what the truth was, the use of alcohol, and some other 'third-party' commentary that had only grown in its influence over the girl by the day. But usually, at the end of them, like 96% of those 'conversations' and nights, we would come to terms and pass out just inches from each other. It was only then, when she was within reach, that I would find calm and doze off.

The anesthesiologist began to ask why I seemed so calm as one of several nurses started to come into the room bringing me back into the moment. The last came in to inform us that the surgery had been moved up and was now going to happen in 15 minutes. I thanked her for taking a few minutes to talk with me and tell me about her role in my surgery and for being real and in the moment about her life and family.

"And....? she asked politely but very intently again as if waiting to find out why I had no fear and was essentially lounging with her making small talk about a serious situation.

I responded after getting my thoughts together in those few seconds after the notice.

"......I had a dream, and it had come true....at least for a little while," I said to her as a tear trickled down my cheek. I was slightly embarrassed. She paused.

 "And she can't be here," I thought, but continued to say, "If I see you on the other side of this procedure, I'll tell you, but if I don't, Google my blog 'Get Adjusted To The Good Life'; it will tell you the story of my life till now...all of it, and maybe in there you'll find the answer you're looking for."

She smiled as a look of curiosity and emotion grew in her face. She wanted to talk more, and tell me how it was she had ended up there, why she had made that career choice versus others, and why she wasn't happy in her current life situation even though she'd not mentioned it. All this from a few moments of conversation in which we had connected. It was something that I'd been gifted with or cursed with depending on how you read my story (There is neither any thing good or bad, but rather how we think of it...Hamlet.). I am just the messenger...I guess.

I was emotionless.....for the most part. I felt some sorrow for my mother and grandmother cause I knew if it was my time, they would suffer the most. The sensation that I was about to bite-it never really gripped me till well after the surgery (like now as I compose) and for a few fleeting seconds during conversations on the subject with Fae. As I thought about our 'final days' together, as I called them--the days leading up to my surgery--I went through a milieu of different emotions ranging from sad, to angry, to happy and content, to concern, and then ultimately love and compassion. The woman I was in love with couldn't be in front of me in those very few minutes leading up to my surgery because of me...." No. It was her. Maybe it was me," Is what I thought. It was actually "both of us and some other third party person," that created the situation;  I drifted into my thoughts as the anesthesiologist left the room.

Approximately 12 minutes before the surgery....
The time was approaching, and I was ready. I had taken the last two months to prepare for checking out; I had created instructions for both scenarios: Me living; or, me dying. For a select few people, it was going to be a wind-fall of dollars from the life insurance policies I had to fund all of the activities that were to transpire as part of my final wishes. Legal documents, bank accounts, all things legally pertaining to me had been painfully found, gathered or written out. Either way, I hadn't thought about it much--living through the surgery--but, I had lived every day intensely preparing for it. Some people were going to be sad, some surprised, and at least one or two people...content or very uncomfortable. "Every dog will have his day," I thought with a slight touch of malice. Hahahaha. 

As my remaining few family members came to wish me well, I grew nervous. My brother and his wife came as did my sister and her husband. Most of my aunts and uncles had come to see me as I was, by all practical measures, their youngest sibling having nearly been raised most of my formative years by my grandmother. My mother had come in one last time with her both with pleasant smiles and warm embraces. They would go and pray as the surgery was happening. I couldn't believe how many people came to see me "live" versus my original intention. I was also surprised how many people said they would pray for me that were non-church-going types. My family had taken the time to gather a few days before the event so we could talk and share one of our favorite family activities--eating food! Lol. Yes, if we knew how to do something well together as a family apart from camping, fishing, hunting, and the occasional family dispute, it was eating food. Everything from traditional Mexican to modern American comfort food...we had a little more of this type this time around even though it was tamales I had hoped my grandmother would magically produce in her old, ripe age; she was/is still the best at it. All of that love from my family came into mind as they left and the music started to play in my head.

The Phone Call To Fae...(minutes before the surgery).
As I reached for the land-line, the flute from Zamfir's (The Lonely Shepard.)track had already begun playing in loop. It was calming me evident by the decrease in the heart rate monitor's readings. I began dialing the number (612-XXX-XXXX). I knew it by heart. She was the only family I had in my Californian life experience the last eight months we had lived with each other. She was the one I had desperately wanted some level of affirmation from that maybe this too might pass if I lived and we tried. She needed an escape from the disaster we had created together leading up to the day I left to the airport. It was her voice that I wanted to hear one last time if only to hear her say good-bye. But, she said more than that...

"Ring......ring....ring...Hello," she said answering the line. I nearly lost it, but replied, "Hey...."
The rasp in her voice was still apparent; a bug had been gripping her body the last couple of weeks. She just needed to get adjusted, drink more water, and actually rest, and maybe lay off the drinking a bit. But, her girlfriends from Minneapolis were in town visiting just a few days before, and she felt responsible to host and facilitate as much as she could leaving her with little or no time, as it was, to continue recovery.

"The surgery got moved up, and I'm going in after I hang up with you." I said with a half smile. "I want you to know I didn't want things to end between us as they did when I left. We didn't want any of this," is what I said as I thought, "Well, I didn't at least...". The various incidents that lead to her inability to be home and in front of me came to mind as did my attempts to clear the pathway for her to be. She could have come it seemed, but one excuse after the next kept on coming up. Whether they were actually true or not was immaterial; they didn't make sense except for the other contributing reason she couldn't be there--affirmation--affirmation to a third party personality that she was not gonna continue to be involved in anything "us" but would "handle" our situation. I could hear her starting to tear up evident by the immediate sniffling.

"Remember, I love you. It's hard to see that right now and accept it, but I do. And there's nothing that I wouldn't do to hold you and kiss you." The tension and emotion in her voice rose as she responded..

"I love you too. I left you a message, and I hope you got to listen to it." I hadn't. I didn't have my phone; it was with my liaison already with instructions awaiting for either of the events to unfold. "I'll be thinking of you, " she said while continuing to ask me to not make her feel guilty about what had happened during the time leading up to that minute. I was just happy she could take the call; it was something she was only able to do when she was alone.

We exchanged other words in those few moments that I can't quiet recall as the sedative that was injected into my IV line was starting to take effect. Interestingly enough, my BP continue to rise as I strived desperately not let my emotions overwhelm my thoughts or the reverse--let my thoughts flood me with emotions and ruin my last few words with her.

"Okay," I said softly. "I better go. The nurse is here to cart me out. Go do something. Walk Alis (her dog). Go work-out. Find somewhere to be so you're not just sitting there alone." I could hear her crying lightly.

"You'll get the updates via text on how things are going," as I repeated my continued affirmation of her. "If I don't make it, you'll find out. Please understand I"m not leaving you by my choice. This thing was not part of my plan for us but some other things are. (Pink's "Try" started to play in my sound machine) She waited for me to hang up.

And as I did, the music in my head grew louder. No fear. No real emotion. Life to be continued or not...didn't matter cause I had a plan, and how that plan was to unfold, wasn't up to me. It was out of my control, and that was somehow comforting. The nurses' voices sounded like they were taken from the Peanut's series--the blurred adult voice telling Charlie Brown something he alone understood but would remain a mystery to the rest of us. My vision blurred. The face of a person I had only seen once before outside our California apartment came into mind. And then, nothing....

May 27, 2011 Kieran's Irish Pub, Minneapolis, MN (Memorial Day Weekend, Two Years back)

Making my way from the hotel to meet up with an old friend and former employer, "Burlington", as I called him, I stopped to grab a bite to eat at the first place I could via the sky way system. Kieran's Irish Pub. It was full of nostalgia cause of my history with it. Before the Irish had taken over the spot and the new Twins Stadium was built, and fledgling security types would come and learn basic security 101 from me, an infamous restaurant and nightclub existed--Bellanote. It was here that lines of 'want-to-be-participants' would form for hours waiting to get past the front door and be apart of the ambiance.

Every kind of exotic car, business owner and a few politicians would grace, with whatever high-dollar girl would indulge them for the night, "the show" as I called it. It was here where deals were made contributing to the housing industry's boom (and necessarily its bust), and the color green wasn't just part of the rainbow; it was the way past the line at the door. This is where you would find me smiling at you with firm handshake, polished manners, a new tailored suit, and a distinct laugh...at least for a few hours  a couple of nights a week.  Through random shifts in the management and the eventual purge of the original doorman team, I was asked to step up to fill the role. (You can read this story in the True Stories Series titled...'A drunk, A girl, And The Show.) The role would not only earn me local revere but would also lead to an attache I grew to appreciate in the long run, "Lord of the Nightlife." One of them at least.

Walking into the front door, a few familiar bartenders greeted me and asked how long I was in town. "The usual. Just the weekend. It's been few months, and I thought it was time to enjoy a weekend home," I mentioned.

The place was full less a couple a chairs at the bar. One seat, the easier of the two to get to, was free. I made my way over to it hoping to 'get in and out' without too much trouble. As I grabbed the seat, I asked the two ladies sitting to the left of them, "Is this seat open?" The one closest me said, "Yes." With her black hair pulled back, the simple curve of her face and the paleness of her skin made their contrast very apparent. "Norwegian or Swedish," I thought attempting to place the gene lineage. (Turns out she is Scottish.) Not making too much of a scene, I took my jacket off, and asked for a bar dish and a beer. The gal next to me, in semi-dressy clothes was open to some small talk, and asked where I was from.

"I'm from here. This is my home town. I just flew in today for the weekend," I said without trying to say anything really about myself .

"What are your names?" I asked attempting to keep both parties involved. The gal next to me answered, "This is my sister Annie, and my name is Fae." And so went on the conversation for a bit leading to the eventual validation that I was an actual doctor of chiropractic and that I lived in both San Jose and West Hollywood. Before long, it was obvious, the 'nurse' next to me was interested in continuing the conversation, and I was likely not going to make it to see my friend Burlington in NordEast mostly due to rain. By the end of a couple of hours, it was time to go.

"Are you free for a drink tomorrow night?" I asked Fae hoping she would say she was. Her sister was with her, and really her being out was to be with her sister and not be entertained by me. She agree and gave me her number.

"Fae, I have a favor to ask?" as I pulled her chair slightly closer to me while watching her sister look on into oblivion not noting the 'other' conversation that was transpiring between her sister and me. She said, "yes....?" with a slight intonation of question. "Kiss me," I whispered into her ear. What happened next was telling of the rest of our days together forward. She said, "I'm with my sister." As if to say, "If my sister wasn't here, maybe!" Lol.

To which I replied, "That's not a 'no'," I laughed out load. "Hahahaha." Followed by, "This might sound really stupid, but I'm staying at the Hyatt Regency, which is just eight blocks or so away. Could you give me a lift there?" with no real interest in taking her away from her sister but rather avoiding ruining the coat I had just purchased. It was a personal achievement symbol of having come that far much like the watch I purchased myself for finishing college.

She laughed at me. "You don't want to get your 'fansy foo foo' coat wet?" slightly mocking me but in a nice way. She had my attention. It was the first nice thing I had purchased for myself after having started my official corporate training role. It was nothing from one point of view, but it was also validation that I was succeeding, which meant everything to me. Eventually, Fae agreed to drop me off, and let me sit in the back seat with her shop vac that she used at the barn she kept her horse. "Funny." I thought.

Arriving at the front of the hotel, I got out as she did to see me out of her pick-up truck.

"So, tomorrow night?" I asked with some level of optimism. And she said, "yes," again with a slight level of reserve and gave me a slight hug and left.

It would be 7:00 PM the next day, Saturday, that I would see her again on the roof-top bar at the Cafeteria in Uptown. I picked area because it was the center of my Minneapolis world; the lakes were close. My favorite shoe shop was there, and I had a sense of being 'home' when I was actually home while taking in the weather.  So, in the event she cancelled, I could at least enjoy the sun set over the lakes and still have an opportunity to say "hello" to other people I'd not seen in a while. After all, I was still a former lord, and even after years of not having filled the role, it still afforded me the occasional free cocktail or the company of a patron that just wanted to catch up with me and see what I'd been up to since they saw me last.

The Cafeteria, Uptown....approximately 6:45 pm the next day.

The sun was out, and it was warm but starting to cool as the sun made its way down. Arriving slightly early to the venue, I greeted the managers and security personnel working that night. We had become friends the previous year while I set up and assessed what their original venue "needs" were. Even though I had become a "Doc," I still moon-lighted in the nightlife for the fun of it.

Ordering my first cocktail, I was joined by a few Minneapolis socialites--the Persians--that more or less owned most of the non-Irish bar/club establishments in the city. With some level of surprise, they welcomed me as I informed them I had a date. She texted me that she was on her way. I thought in the event she might not be able to identify me to inform her I was wearing white pants and a blue button down. I laughed. Recollecting what she had said about having been in the process of divorce and finally needing to get "back out" came to mind. "I guess," is what I thought realizing I was slightly bending my own dating rules. I had no intention of the evening leading to a relationship, but I figured it would be nice to share the time with someone from home that was sweet and trying to get back to real life then to sit and shoot the shit with a people that were trying to escape it.

When Fae arrived, the Persians stopped talking to take notice of her. There in the distance approaching cautiously was the nurse. She wore her hair down and didn't have on the nerd shades from the previous night. We couldn't help but stare slightly as this tall, beautiful woman came our way to see me! Lol. "I get to be the special one," I thought. I was giddy but concealing it. "Hello," I said and introduced her to my 'friends', and we moved slightly to have some level of privacy. She was cute in her mannerisms, and polite in her interactions with the gentlemen. She spoke softly and laughed freely as we went through some aspects of my previous work in the city and her role as a nurse at the local VA hospital. She was one of my kind--a Minnesotian--and I felt like a million bucks getting the chance to hang out with her.

We eventually left Uptown and ended up downtown where the horse-drawn buggies would run. She ran up to one of the horses to caress its nose to which the horse responded by peeing all over the street and her feet! Hahahaha. It was unfortunate but funny all at the same time. So, I did what most guys in my demeanor would do, I offered to let her use my hotel room to rinse off her feet while I waited in the hotel lobby bar for her. We laughed, and drank a few more, and the evening would turn to night, and night would eventually turn into morning, and my giddiness would turn to numbness knowing it might be the last time I'd see her. I turned cold. This was usually the case when I would be fortunate enough to entertain the locals when I was in town. A kiss. A hug, and the usual good-bye/thank you was the way it would normally end. I didn't enjoy that part of it; I actually really disliked it. But, there were two more days I would be in town. Maybe she'd be free for karaoke or something and get to meet a few of the guys...Anican, Tom, etc. She seemed so nice, and so sweet; I couldn't help but want to get to know her better.

By the end of the weekend, I was on my way to the airport. I texted her the days before, but she was working or had to be home or was just plain busy. Those were the signs that it was done. I couldn't help but think of all the things we spoke of that were not the normal 'run of the mill' conversation for a first date. Like, in the instance with the anesthesiologist, I saw in her eyes and heard in her voice a story that didn't have an end in what was actually being presented to me 'en vivo'. So, I called her as I was getting on the plane.

"Ring... Ring...Hello. Hey. It's the 'doc' as she had been teasingly calling me all weekend. "I'm on the plane, and I wanted to tell you that I had a good time getting to know you a little. I come into town usually on a monthly basis. It would be awesome if I could get to know you a little better along the way, and if you're open to it."

She said it first, "I have no expectations of you at all. I've got stuff going on in my life." And I said I understood. "Me too. I figure the distance could give you the time and space you need to deal with what you're dealing with, and if it works out, cool. If it doesn't, than that's the way life goes. I have no expectations of you either other than you being real and in the moment. But, I think you want 'to be the only girl in the world, the only one that understands and can make me feel like a man," quoting Rhianna. She laughed, but I could hear the emotion in her voice as I slightly sang the words.

With all that being said, I asked her straight up, "Would you be okay with me staying in contact with you after today?" Her answer would be the name a song that we would claim as our own relationship tune in the very near future. She said, "Yes." And I said, "Wow."

And so began the beginning of our getting to know each other as best as people can via txt, the occasional phone call, and upcoming visits to the homeland; it was the beginning of our long-distance relationship that would prove, at least, that where there is a will, there is a way.

The Second Hour Into The Surgery...(coming out of anesthesia).
People say that there is a light at the end of a tunnel that they seem to be traveling along when they die or have an out-of-body experience. I often wonder if it's just the way their sensory is starting to come back into function from the anesthetic or if it's something else. People also say that when they're right about to die or have a near death experience, various scenes from their life flash before them as if to be happening all at one time. I also wonder if there is a point when we're about to leave our physical life as a spirit, taking into consideration that I believe we're composed of both a body and a spirit, that maybe we do experience our life's events as one event because the time factor separating them becomes null. It's just a thought I have about these topics..but either way, hard to say which is true.

The sound of commotion surrounded me. As had been predicted, the high blood pressure had knocked off a few percentage points on the survival rate for the surgery. Being able to hear sounds meant it was likely the end of my surgery or the beginning of my end. I still could not make out the sounds for what seemed only a few seconds. The surgeons voice called my name.

"Dr. Fil.... Dr. Fil... Do you understand what I'm saying to you." he said. I nodded. The breathing apparatus had just come out of my throat, and the taste of blood become more obvious to me.

"Dr. Fil. We brought you 'up' cause you are losing too much blood too quickly." It was the sign that my end was near being brought up. I guess for what seemed a few moments, those scenes that people see as they're approaching the end of their life flooded my thoughts along with ones of my girl, Fae. I could hardly mumble. But, what did come out, the internist working with my surgeon would later relate to me. I thought about learning to ride a bike without training wheels the first time; being in Mexico around a bond-fire listening to my uncle sing and play guitar in the cold night's air; fishing with my grandpa and laughing at him being mad he didn't catch any; I recalled hearing the Almighty's mandate, "Who will go for Us and stand in the 'Gap'? Who will go and intercede for them?" Here Am I. Send me..." in responding to the call.  I thought about all of the people in all the places around the world that had come and gone in my life as if in some kind of orchestrated fashion; everything was connected; all things are one.

"Tell her that I love her," is what the internist said I mumbled right as my eyes rolled back. My vision was fuzzy in those few moments before, but my thoughts were crystal clear. And that crystal was starting to turn to black. And then nothing.

The events that followed according to the my surgeon and the internists were hard to describe and difficult to relate.....

1:30 AM Late Night After The Surgery: Watching The Snow Fall ..
 I recanted in my thoughts an old letter I had written to a colleague regarding the matter of truth as I watched the snow fall through the window. I was in pain but trying to mentally cut it off.
            "It is written, 'And you will know the Truth, and the Truth will make you free.' In my life-time, I have grappled with the idea of freedom and how it comes with knowing the truth. What is freedom? How does one come into it fully? It is, first, the capacity to deliberate or weigh alternatives. "Will I be a doctor or a lawyer? Will I vote for this candidate or another? Will I be a member of this association, or that association? Second, freedom expresses itself in decision. The word decision like the word incision involves the image of cutting. Incision means to cut into and decision means to cut off. When I make a decision I cut off alternatives and make a choice. The existentialists say we must choose, that we are a choosing creature; and if we do not choose, we sink into "thing-hood" and become part of the mass mind. A third expression of freedom is responsibility. This is my obligation as a person to respond if I am questioned about my decisions.  No one else can respond if I am questioned about my decisions. No one else can answer for me. I alone must respond, for my acts are determined by the centered totality of my being. 
          From this discourse, it becomes more clear how deceitfulness and misrepresenting the truth are wrong. They cut off one's capacity to deliberate, decide and respond accurately in a given situation.The absence of truth is the denial of freedom and the imposition of restraint to my ability to deliberate what I will do, how I will do it, and the kinds of tasks I should pursue. I am robbed of the basic facts from which I'm to make a choice, and this degrades my quality of 'man-ness' when I can"t see the full picture of all things involving the truth. It means, in fact, someone or some other system has already made the facts I will base my decisions from a priori for me, and I am then reduced to an animal. I do not live fully; I merely get to exist in part of a truth. The only resemblances I have to a real life are those motor responses and functions that are basic to being human. I cannot adequately assume responsibility as a persona because I have been made party to a decision on what the truth will be for me in which I played no part in making. 

         For sure this is a hyperbole, to some point, but it demonstrates what actually happens to a person when they are robbed of the truth and told what to believe the truth is and then asked to decide. The very nature of nature of your life is altered you cannot make the full circle of person-hood because that which is basic to the character of life itself has been diminished. So I hunt down the Truth relentlessly.

I could not believe what had just transpired in the last twelve hours much less what had been happening the three months leading up to it in general. "It must mean something," I thought.

Three Hours After The Original Surgery's End Time.....
"Beep..... Beep....... Beep.......," went the sound of the heart monitor. The commotion happening around me seemed a bit much considering. The nurse talking to me seemed very expressive as if I was late to a show of which I had missed the best part.

"You're a lucky man," she said. "We're just waiting for a room to monitor you in for a while before we put you into recovery. "Where are you from?" she asked to which I can't remember answering. "Lucky," I thought. It's a word that had been ascribed to me a number of times in my life; it was usually when I felt I had had the least 'luck' that I was told that I was lucky. It would usually happen as I'd be walking away from some tragic catastrophe with a big cheesy smile and an attitude that expressed nothing had even happened even if the ambulances, fire department or police were involved--it was how I was trained: Think now. Feel later. Act now. Understand later.  I guess feeling "lucky" wasn't part of my programming. Either way, one of my old and close college friends, Ganyon, would say I was "blessed." Hard to say. But, I took it for what it was worth. I would later thank the Almighty for being good to me and having mercy on me on that day. It was my custom to do so when I 'lived' through things.

The recovery room was pretty standard with a window next to my bed. Fortunately, I was the only occupant which made it easy for various family members to take shifts staying by me as they were allowed while I went in and out of consciousness. My sister and her husband brought me treats from the Castle that is White of which I could only spoon small amounts of the chocolate shake. Lol. I could hardly move. And even if I wanted to, I was virtually strapped down to the bed by I.V.s, monitors, pressure apparatus attached to my legs, and a body harness so I wouldn't 'accidentally fall' out of bed. So, I was grateful to them for bringing me things I couldn't get to like my signet ring and watch, and my blackberry. When I came to again, I told everyone to go home and rest. I would be fine. I needed to be alone with my thoughts and my phone.

I would check to see what was sent and received, and which lists of groups had been contacted about the surgery, and eventually check the voicemail when I was alone as I was constantly being attended by nurses that would check my BP, my fluid intake and output, and, of course, how much pain I was in so they could inject my I.V. with pain killer. Someone was prodding at me nearly every 30 minutes. The drugs made me hazy or essentially put me out. So, I would wait till I couldn't bear the pain or the monitors would alert the nurses that something was up before I would take more meds. I had lived; it was something I had only planned for in brief. But, now that I was alive, there was work to be done. So, I thought...deeply. It's all I could do only so many hours after surgery.  I could hear the nursing attendants talking in the hallway informing other staff that "that's the Hollywood doc..... and he....," I would laugh to myself quietly as the Black Keys played on the sound machine...little black submarines, operator...please put me back on the line...told my girl I'd be back; this is wrecking my mind..

My liaison executed my instructions precisely. It was he who would notify the groups if I had expired, and all the appropriate people woven into them would receive notice of their pending instructions according to my will shortly thereafter. I had a plan; a very detailed one, which included informing various people of my passing. I had written letters explaining my end and thanking a number of them for their contribution to my life. Some of those would also receive some undisclosed amount of dollars aiding their efforts in the world or that of their children as I have none of my own. There were letters of apology to a certain number of recipients for either one of two reasons: I was not as honest as I could have been with them about all the things that transpired in our time together; or, we never got far enough to do one of a number of things we had discussed doing together. I figured if they knew the truth and they had enough money to do the activities, they could be free to decide how the transactions really had gone and remember me in whatever way they wanted. Other letters conveyed information about my observations I had made.

A small number of letters gave notice of my passing and the cancellation of any debt that person may have owned me, but not all of them would be cancelled in my death; a select few would still have to pay or at least would have to ask to be forgiven that debt out of principle as Mexican culture would dictate. This was the "Give All My Secrets Away" clause in my living will. All of the truth would be known, but I lived, and now had to decide what to keep and what to send.

All I could do in my hospital bed was read text messages, and listen to the voice mails from the various people praying for me or had kept me in their thoughts that day. All of it seemed to comfort and hurt me as I was filling with emotion. That, or, I had just run out of pain killer. People from various places around the world had taken the time to think of me and whatever time we had shared. I was, again, humbled reminded by my signet ring to have compassion. And without warning, I came to the message from Fae I hadn't had a chance to listen to before the surgery.

When I heard her voice the banjos from Mumford and Sons started playing on my mental sound machine..."and I will wait. I will wait for you." It was the music I would associate the most with her in our final days; it was music that moved me; expressed great emotion with a high level of determination in the midst of what seem to be horrible odds; she had no idea what I was handling largely cause she didn't believe me (or mislead to not believe me).  I tried to laugh as I listened to her tell me she was going to go to Bikrum for me, but my wound stitching hurt too much if I moved more than a smile.

Bikrum Yoga. It was one of our 'healthy' activities I had got her started into for lots of reasons...peace of mind, getting into better physical shape, and secretly, so she would meet other people doing healthy things. She could connect with a group and develop a routine and eventually a sense of belonging in our shared world. She went on to say nearly tearing again, that she loved me and would be thinking of me as I went under, and to call her before I went into surgery or when I got out if I couldn't; she was being optimistic for me. Hahahaha. I missed that part of her.

Eventually, my BP monitor would go up signaling the attending nurse to check on me early leading to a slight sedative and pain killer that would put me out. My call to Fae had been disturbing when I finally managed to get some words out to her. Our conversation would soon be interrupted by an incoming unidentified phone call to her by him...Esteban. I would eventually be woken up by the surgeon and the internist a few hours later.

The Surgeon And The Internist... 6:47 A.M. The Morning After the Surgery
It was the internist that reported to me I had started talking incessantly the moment I was able. He was christian and strangely interested in what I had said; it was he that would relay the events in the operating room; it was he who would later recant my talk of a woman I described in high detail and other conversations I was having; it was he and my surgeon that would, with disbelief, describe to me how my heart rate would crescendo before it flat-lined to nothing.

"Morning Doc," my surgeon said with a high level of interest. "Don't be afraid to ask for the meds. We don't want you in pain cause it makes your heart rate shoot up." And with his intern, he grabbed a chair and lowered himself to my eye level and spoke plainly to me.

"Now, I'm not a believer of things religious or spiritual, but I've seen so many things in my 30 plus years of doing surgery that I have to wonder about some things. I began wondering again when you revived during surgery." I looked at him, and asked, "What?" "Your heart rate went out of control after we brought you up for obvious reasons (and some not so obvious ones) and you had lost a lot of blood. We followed your final wishes as you requested if you were to pass--that is, not to revive you. You flat-lined for over a minute and had stopped breathing. And I was gonna have one of the other docs call it. But then, it was as if something crashed into you! You literally bounced some, and then started breathing again," he said with a look of amazement moving slightly closer to me.

"My internist says you speak other languages?" he said with a questioning tone.

Unsure of what he meant, I said, "Well, I learned languages in school I thought would be useful to travel freely with and not get bothered by the locals." To which he replied, "Do you make it to heaven much?" he said sincerely and kinda laughed in the process but then waited for my response.
I shook my head as to say, "No," but was still uncertain what he was telling me.

The christian internist smiled and chimed in saying,"You speak in Tongues. I'm penticostal, and I know it when I hear it." I thought, "Great, a Bible guy," half uncomfortable but I said, "and you heard this?" Not exactly what I was expecting him to say, as he continued,"and French, and what sounded Arabic, and a list of other things he and the other docs had identified some time after my resurgence to life.

"Let me clarify. When we thought you had died, we took off your oxygen mask after you stop breathing past the minute, and when you started up again, you were mumbling in tongues." After we released you to the observation room, you were having conversations with various people in those languages. When you started speaking English, you spoke of a girl non-stop." I wondered what I had said, and who those people were. He asked if she had been present to which I could only painfully say, "No."

"Well, doc, I'm glad you surprised me and scared the shit out of me a little. Your stitches look good, and you need to rest. I'll see you in a week," my surgeon said exiting the room with the internist that relayed a few other things to me along the way. It was starting to make sense to me now....why the nurses in the hallway were making conversation about me as a new one took over or was just interested in getting a peak at me; the Hollywood doc...the guy that spoke multiple languages with people not in the room. But I hadn't spoken any, other than Spanish, in years...especially the one the internist was making reference. I had to decide what it meant now that I was alive.

               
Monday November 5th, 2012. The apartment in Hollywood: Two Months Before Surgery.

It was a normal day of work events for me. The weather was, again, hot, and the sun was shining. I wondered how the day would end as most days since Fae's visit back home to Minnesota the month prior had only seem to add to the already high level of tension between us. It was as if an argument had already taken place in her head between us for which I had no actual participation but was getting the aftermath: critical attitudes, conversations that seemed to only try and agitate our relating and the random need to be away somewhere else out of my presence.

I had hoped for better. I hated when we would argue over seemingly nothing at all usually prefaced by her love of her old life, her X-husband, and her firm belief that he secretly wanted to be back in a relationship with her, but he couldn't cause of Patricia. It was a lose--lose situation. I had things I had wanted to tell her that were important that would likely add to the situation, but we hadn't had enough 'down' time to just relate as normal people. I had hoped that tonight would've been the night I could tell her what I desperately needed to, but she came in the door already angry and paranoid that I was "following" her the day before. A sentiment she had expressed back in the homeland when I would visit; she was then too under the same suspicion about being followed except that it was her x-husband she was worried about then getting information about her activities with me. It had always made me wonder "why" if in fact she was divorcing her husband that it would matter she was "moving on", and was trying to start over again, here in California.....with me. She raged as she stormed into the apartment, and then out disappearing down the street into the night saying to not call or bother her; "I'll be staying at a hotel or somewhere you can't find me."
When 2:30 AM had rolled around, I walked down the street looking for her at the most popular of places we would frequent--she wouldn't deviate too much from what she knew; otherwise, she'd end up getting lost. And in Hollywood at 2:30 A.M., it's not a good idea. My search for her continued to no avail. As sat on the sofa with the dog keeping me company, I watched the hours pass. As light started to chase away the darkness, I called her parents out of concern and maybe the remote possibility that she had contacted them and informed them where she had gone and why as she had done with her husband during their arguments. Which lead me to also send him a text...for the same reason knowing she had been in the process of trying to "get his attention" with sensational stories of our life together. But, no one had heard anything. When she did make it back, she was pale, lacking of sleep, and clearly hung-over...a look I would see regularly from that day forward. Fortunately she worked a mid-day shift allowing time to get her stuff for work together.

"Where did you stay," I asked out of concern and slight frustration.
"It doesn't matter. I was safe, and that's all you need to know," she said spitefully.

"I called and left a message with your parents cause I didn't see you anywhere, and you didn't come home. I was worried... walked down the street to our normal places, and I didn't see you." I then asked her for a receipt for the 'hotel' she had stayed at to which she responded,

"No. There is nothing for you to see."

"Ha. Well considering you say you have no "work" friends, and you haven't made any others that I'm aware of, I would guess you'd have a receipt cause you didn't sleep in your truck."

I continued to say as she grabbed the flowers I had put into a vase on the counter and angrily through them into the trash.

"Why are you being nice to me now? Cause I didn't come home? Cause you care?" As she became more angry as she proceeded to get her things ready for work. She had a point. I had been critical of her actions, attitudes toward our situation, and all of the background "stuff" she claimed didn't exist...like a different person.

"I guess," I mentioned as I walked over to the kitchen to pull the flowers out of the trash and place them back into the vase.

"You don't have to be destructive. The flowers could be for me too. Something to bring a little color to the place."

This became my weekly ritual from that point forward; I would buy different flowers of bright colors to help the apartment's atmosphere. It was something she would grow to appreciate and continue after I had left for surgery.

"I want you out! I want you out by the end of the month," she went on saying furiously. It was something she had started to say before her trip to MN and then after she returned. And, every time I would decide to take her up on her offer and start to move my things out of the apartment to storage, she would block the way out, tell me to see what she was saying physically versus what she had said verbally. She was in conflict, and we had both fed that fire. But, so was someone else; a person I didn't know was in the picture, but I had had my suspicions as it was in her nature to have an "out" in the works.

"Look. You're angry. I understand cause I called your parents, you clearly didn't sleep much, and are hung-over. You can be angry all you want if you feel you need to be, but when you're ready and before you leave, I have something I need to tell you," I said calmly and in a very even pitched voice. She stormed into the room getting her things while asking if I had taken care of the dog. I always did take care of her--the dog; she was dependent on one of us letting her out when Fae worked her 12-14 hour shifts. I would always do it--care for the dog--even if I said I wouldn't in the weeks to come so as to give Fae a reason to come home and not go to where ever she'd disappear.

As she was now ready to leave, I sat at my desk waiting, slightly anxious of what had transpired the night before for her, and more importantly, with whom it had been.

"What?" she smirked at me nearly ready to hit me with the facts of her night as a prodding tool, but she didn't. She stopped herself from letting it escape her mouth.

"When I was home for the high school reunion, I got my thyroid checked as you had suggested, "but I never let on to you that I appreciated your concern for it and telling me to," I thought.

"And?" now listening with a slight elevation in her interest of it.

"After I got back, and I was driving to work, my endocrinologist called me."
I had left him a standing letter of permission to call me with any news other than normal or whatever as I had moved to California to finish my studies when I had had a massive goiter develop in my right thyroid; it had been benign, and had receded nearly 90% leaving no real concerns of any kind less one previous event, which had turned out to be minor.

But this time, he said, "I've got some news for you." "Okay," I force out pulling over on my way to an interview on Sunset." Fae was now listening more intently and looking at the clock on the microwave cause she never wore a watch and needed to leave. I went on to relate the rest of my conversation with the endocrinologist.

He said, "Remember when I said you'd never have to worry about that goiter ever having a problem?" as he paused, "I think we have a problem." His voice started to blur as overwhelming emotion gripped my thoughts and being. "Fae." Came to mind. Her worst fear would potentially have the ability to manifest...she might find herself.....alone with no one she would say. And I had brought her here so she could be away from her last disastrous relationship. As my Alpha-persona started to kick-in cutting off my emotional components, I asked the doc to repeat the last part of his talk to me to which he followed up by asking how soon could I make it back home. The extent of what I was dealing with was a mystery to me but not my doc as he proceeded to tell me to plan for the worst until we could conclude otherwise. As I hung up, I began feeling cheated. Angry. I had gotten this far only to be hit with something else to handle. I was failing in my relationship, so it seemed, and I was fast-tracking it back into a more official doctor role in preparation for end-of-the-year contract negotiations with my then corporate client, whom, by-and-large, had funded my life. And, I didn't want to get caught with my pants down if things were going to change.

As I looked at Fae in the kitchen, I said softly, "I'm going home in 11 days to do the follow up stuff. I have cancer in my thyroid, and it looks as if the tumor is right next to an artery, but they're not sure if there's any damage to the artery yet." I was stone hard emotionally but soft in my speech to her at that point. All she could do at that moment was start to grab her things. As she left, she turned to tell me,

"I don't believe you. You don't have cancer. You're making this up,"  and she storm down the hallway. It was that perception, the one that I had made it up--the whole thing--that she would maintain till the week I'd leave for my surgery. But by then, it was too late...two and a half months too late. I had been sitting on the information for two weeks....maybe two weeks too many according to Fae.

She would swivel between one end of her emotions of being distant and unconcerned to being periodically broken, sympathetic, and the supportive girlfriend I thought she could be (considering she was a nurse); except she wasn't "officially" my girlfriend any more...not verbally at least. It was why she didn't make it back the night before; she was to start driving the stake between us it seemed. What she was going to share with me as a means to incite rage, and anger from me, lead to compassion and unconditional love for her. I had failed her and misunderstood what was really happening in her person and her attempts to express it with me seemingly always lead to explosive arguments. It was then,the morning of November 6th that I had dropped my critical demeanor towards her and her 'extra' activities between other people. I decided, as I was unsure if I would be leaving the planet soon, to love her unconditionally. I had eleven days till I'd go home to verify what I had feared. Eleven days to start to make a difference in her world. I couldn't change yesterday, but I could certainly change today, and tomorrow, and the day after. And I did.

Every day I would wake, even if I didn't have to, to help her ready for her day. Make coffee; break out the toast, walk the dog as she was leaving, make sure she had her water bottle, walk her to the elevator door, and tell her that I loved her.

Every day for the following weeks, she would attempt to find a reason to start an argument with me so she could fuel her own anger towards me find a reason to leave, to which I'd let the bullets ricochet. Something she hadn't expected; She'd verbally knock me down, but I'd get up again. Only making her try harder. And every time I thought I was going to loose it, I'd remember that these were our final days together, as I called them, and I wanted them replace some of our less than memorable ones. One day at a time. Every now and then, she would stop at the door as she left, and ask me, "Why are you being so nice to me? I know this is not you. You're only doing this cause you're sick, and you'd go right back to the way you were before..." to which I would say the same thing every time, "Cause I love you, and I'm not confused about that," even as I continued to ignore, in part, what was continuing in the background of our home life (Madylin Bailey's version of Titanium playing on the sound machine.).

When the first 30 days had passed, she had grown to accept my expressions of love and support of her.  We enjoyed some level of peace and understanding for a while during which I'd read to her various parts of the Five Languages Of Love  attempting to both better understand how it was we communicated love. She would often see new things she had missed about herself in her former marriage or even between us, but she was getting it--she was learning. I would later get a book that was titled, Talk To Me Like I'm Someone You Love that had great verbiage for occasions one might not have any clue how to identify what one was feeling much less the right thing to say. And so we went on in our remaining time together, but it didn't stop her from allowing a certain person's continued pursuit of her; it was her 'Plan B' as I later would discover I was for her when she was still 'working on' getting out of her marriage...or trying to stay in...something that would come up as I moved the last of my things out...

Monday, January 28th, 2013: Six Days Post-Surgery...Arriving Into LAX.............Part One

The air was crisp, and the sun was setting. The flight home was smooth and had arrived early. Eager to get to my jeep and get home, I hurried through the terminal to jump on the next shuttle that would take me to my green machine. When I found him in my normal parking spot, 3C, he was covered in dust and hot from the day's sun. I nearly cried when he started up. After fifteen years of service, he had never failed me. Not once. He always started even in the bitter cold of MN. Now 2500 miles from the homeland and over 216,000 actual miles, he was humming smoothly and ready to go. It was comforting to me (Jeep, it runs deep.) knowing I could depend on something in my life in the middle of a strange land.

As I cruised down the roadway leading home making one detour along the way, Nelly"s Just A Dream came on over the airwaves, "I was thinking about her...thinking about me, ...thinking about us, and what we're gonna be. I opened my eyes, and it was only just a dream." And so the tune played nearly all the way. "How stupidly fitting," I thought!

My post-surgical visit earlier that day was both surprising but disconcerting. The surgeon had remarked at how fast my scar was healing and how much my energy had already seemed to be returning. The blood pressure reading on the other hand, was still high. The surgeon had went on to inform me that the biopsy of my tumor had been sent to the Mayo Clinic for a final conclusion on what the nature of the lime-sized invader was. The results would be in sometime that week, but he was unsure when as there had only been a few other instances his team took that long to deliver the results. And really, I could have cared less if it took a month, all I wanted to know is that I was "clear" or not so I could plan accordingly.

The wind blew through my hair as I cruised down the 105 en route to my home and the music changed to Wisin & Yandel's "Hay Algo Que Me Gusta De Ti." I was excited to start Part B of my life; it would hopefully be different, clean, and forward moving. I had determined to let some things go and leave them in the past as it seemed the Almighty saw it fit to send me back to finish up whatever my life's ultimate end was to read as. But, there was a situation with a certain someone that needed some attention...namely the girl--Fae. She knew I was on my way back into California but not sure exactly when I would arrive. I had been ambiguous purposely hoping to maintain the element of surprise and keep her co-worker guessing.

When I opened the apartment door, Alis ran up to me immediately nearly knocking me over. I had missed the 76 pound dog, and her constant giving and taking of affection, but now she was giving me the look, the one that indicated she needed to go out. Fae was still at work likely doing another 12+ hour day. "Hmmm," I thought looking around the apartment for subtle changes or things left behind by our visitor. Not to my surprise, she had moved all of my things out of sight and into the closet. I guess it made a certain someone more comfortable while "filling-in" for me. "Ha.Ha ha. No matter. What goes around eventually comes back around," I thought proceeding to unpack and take the dog out. As I was assessing what needed to be done in the next few days, I became nervous. I would have to move my remaining things out of the place to somewhere; care for the wound in my neck that was still tender and freshly exposed to the elements that morning rendered me temporarily vulnerable--the scare didn't allow for quick or jarring motions. These facts, and the fact I would exhaust after anything taking more than a few minutes, I would keep to myself in order to keep a recent visitor guessing in the event he wanted to have a follow up conversation earlier than planned.

When she did finally make it home, the silence between us was so thick that even the dog didn't know what to do. Fae kept her distance, and didn't say much except ask, "Are you going to be staying here?"

Which I thought was an odd question considering all the bedroom furniture was mine leading to my reply, "Of course. It's still my stuff till you pay for it in full." I continued to tell her, "..then I'll sign off on the lease." I had already told her I would sign off when I was ready and not before, and for sure, I wasn't gonna let her co-worker use her to pressure me in any direction. We were still legally bound together via the lease--a very familiar situation she'd only gotten out of earlier that year from her divorce in the matter regarding their shared home. She couldn't sign off without my consent or the reverse; it was a legal glitch her and her co-worker had seemingly gone through the various scenarios of, "If he does this, then do this...If he does that, then do or say this." It was apparent he was using the girl to gauge my behavior..."Interesting," I thought. Some odd teaming had been occurring between the two of them in my absence but was now starting to make itself very apparent but not unexpected. Remember, I had a plan in play.

"I'm not going to be staying in the apartment while you're here," she said with some detectable level of anger. "I guess not. I suppose you have to keep your 'boy' validated now that I made it back....now that I'm alive. Cause I did live, and I hadn't planned on it." But now, drifting into my thoughts slightly, "I will win this struggle with cancer. Do what you need to do for you cause I'm pretty sure you didn't give US a "continuation" plan in your story telling to everyone," I said with some level of sarcasm coated with remorse. The fact of the matter was she had in her own mind imagined it if I didn't, "..make me out to be so terrible or the situation so bad that I can't come back," she said as I informed her I would be telling the story. What she didn't know, is there was no return. Not in this life. It was something I had reminded her of constantly in our final days together up until I left for my surgery; she had more than two months to change her mind and cut off our relational intruder, but she didn't.

As I watched her, the struggle in her person had already begun. I was in front of her, and not just a text message or voice over the phone, but an actual live breathing person she cared for in the very immediate past or maybe still cared for in the moment, and slept with till the day I left for my surgery. She relished my person, and I guess I did her too till I left.

"I can't be around you. This is too hard for me emotionally. I'll be in and out as I need to be till you leave, but I'm not gonna stay here with you," she'd continued to say as her phone started immediately buzzing--the co-worker or her 'boy' was checking to make sure she was "OK" but still leaving for the night with him.

"Why are you leaving? This is your home. This is our home till Friday or I sign off on the lease. You shouldn't have to leave because some guy you started screwing two months ago thinks he's in love with you and is uncomfortable with a situation that shouldn't have even existed, but I guess you decided that for us. What happen to, 'whatever makes you happiest' and 'I respect your decisions too' talk your boy was giving you before we knew when I was leaving to surgery?"

I smartly asked, "Did all that disappear when I was "no longer" in the way and going to meet my end?" A look of question started to filling her eyes. I knew what had been happening all along, but I just let it happen for a very specific reason; she needed to believe the story she was telling herself and everyone else involved....More, importantly, I wanted her to believe the story her 'boy' was telling her. So I let her believe everything...even if it wasn't true. Truth or not, she would find a way to make it true for her to continue to justify her actions just as her co-worker would so she would follow. And even in that, a part of her struggled with the US factor and its striking similarity to her marriage's debacle.

Her immediate response was to walk over to me and nearly hug me, but she didn't. She just looked at the gaping scar on my neck. "Yes. I actually did have cancer, and you didn't want to believe me," I said to her changing my tone of voice to a more soft and welcoming one while looking into her green eyes. I could smell her shampoo, and her perfume she'd only started wearing just before Obama had been elected. It was one she'd wear just in case she smelled of work or other activities. She reached up to touch it, my wound, noting the stitch job. Before too long, she'd crack open a beer as she readied herself to exit the place. This was how it went the following days except she'd stay a little longer and talk a little more each day about normal stuff till my replacement, her 'boy' would start to chime in our life via text or phone, which she 'had' to answer it seemed only getting off the phone paranoid and in fear something was gonna happen to her because of me....or was it something that was gonna happen to her from him...."Hmmm," I'd sound out while thinking through my plan.

When Thursday morning arrived, my phone buzzed waking me from a partially descent night of sleep. Alis, the dog, had been sleeping next to me as she did every night I was home. Fae hadn't returned from where she was when the phone call came in from MN. I didn't answer. It had been too long for any normal anything to have been determined. I waited for the voice mail and listened after I got up to walk Alis trying to focus on something different than the voicemail.

"Hey Doc, It's your surgeon Dr. (name omitted). I finally got the report back on your tumor tissue samples from the Mayo specialist. We need to talk today," he said with a level of urgency. It's the kind of sound you know only has a less than favorable message following. I forwarded it to Fae so she would also know I had been contacted about the results of the biopsy; it was something she seemed remotely interested in knowing but attempted not to seem too concerned. When she finally did come in, she was tense. She was under duress as my replacement was already on her case for wanting to be home on her day off, but she rebutted him with obvious things she had to get done to include dealing with me. He did this via text, email, and calling...again...and again when she wasn't actually in his presence making sure she wasn't getting too involved in a conversation with me or around me at all if he could help it.

"That didn't take long," I'd say to her shortly pointing out the obvious telephonic invasion she was under.

"What did the surgeon say?" she asked as I made my way to the balcony replying, "I'm not sure, but it doesn't sound awesome judging by the tone in his voice. Are you gonna be around today?"

She nodded as to imply, "No!" Eventually she responded by asking, "Are you gonna be out by the first, which is tomorrow?" I hadn't signed the lease release waiver cause her plans for the place seemed to be constantly shifting, and I still hadn't found a place to move; it wasn't a priority before surgery, again, cause I hadn't really planned on returning, but I had lived--something a different person hadn't planned on either. I attempted to interrupt her telephonic invasion with a lite conversation, but my phone rang with the all so familiar '763' area code--it was the surgeon.

I answered, "This is Dr Fil." He started to talk, "Hey Doc. I got your results back from the Mayo. This is probably not what you want to hear considering you just got back home, but we need you back. The Mayo has re-defined that tumor as an invasive neoplastic sarcoma. We may not have gotten all of the cells out of you. You have some time if you need it."

He was right. It was not what I wanted to hear, but I was expecting it after the long delay in contacting me. "Free and Clear," is what I was hoping to hear, but I didn't get those words. I briefly mentioned I'd get in contact with his people to make arrangements. Fae, now listening intently to my conversation, walked over to me.

"What did he say?" as she moved to stand in front of me reaching for my arm. It was the first time I'd seen more than casual concern from her in the days I had returned home. I could hardly speak, but as a tear rolled down my cheek, I muttered, "I'm not clear. I'm not clear, but I have some time." She hugged me strongly, and even though she was emotionally disconnected from me on the whole, in that moment, I could tell she was struggling to not be.

I wasn't supposed to be in the picture anymore according to her and everyone else, but I was. And, I was determined to heal and grow strong again with or without her. In that moment, however, all I could do was weep. Uncontrollably. She kissed me, again, on the cheek as she had once before upon my return--her continued struggle with her emotions for me and between us was evident in her struggle to stay or leave every night and all the writings she'd put on our bathroom mirror. Eventually she would be helped in her decision to leave paranoid and convinced that something terrible was going to happen to her ...my replacement and...."More propaganda," I thought but said nothing.

It was obvious, she really didn't have much say in anything at that point, because Esteban was now threatening to leave her if she didn't comply; something he must have figured would matter from her fears of me leaving her originally. I would chime in now and then and smirk, "Who's threatening you now?" Something she again had to think about as it was always her thought that it was me that threatened her. I guess I had by telling this very story to everyone; by telling her I was gonna talk to whomever, including her parents, ex-husband, and friends as I saw fit to find out the truth about her past and now her present series of partial truths. And if needed, I'd put them all on conference call to see if the stories we were all being told even matched up. It was her way of controlling people--only telling them partial truths that they could neither confirm or deny....till she met me.

"I'm still confused about you, this situation, and US. I don't trust you, and you and me both did a lot of wrong to each other," she said as emotion filled her face. Eventually her tears of sorrow would turn into tears of rage.

"I guess so, but you could've stopped the confusion two months ago had you not let that piece of shit into our home and into our life together. And you've had more than two months to TRY. But, instead, what did you do?" I said not trying to stop her from leaving except ask her if all the things that seemed so open-handed by her now 'boy-friend' co-worker were still true....

"Don't you get a say in what you will do, or whom you will do it with, and where? Doesn't your opinion matter anymore, and aren't your choices also important and not just the ones your 'boy' says are important for you? I thought Esteban 'respected' your thoughts and desires! Did that change as I told you it would when I was 100% out of the picture or he felt he had closer to full control of the situation? Cause it's very easy to be the non-stressful, slightly more interesting 'cool cat' when it comes to what he was doing--keeping you in the rotation; then he doesn't have to put up with your bull-shit cause there are other girls being groomed and waiting for the attention." (Although, I admit I was being generous to his actual ability or talent with the girls..these kind of girls that is...white, middle-class, educated.)
"But now he, as any player would, started letting the backup girl(s) go feeling that the 'choice' one was 'lock-in' and could now start being made demands of when I was out."

I said all this pointing out all the other obvious things about the situation. I wasn't trying to convince her to be with me because we were done (98%). Rather, I was trying to convince her to stay in control of herself and her thoughts and the reality of her pending situation.... because it seemed clear that someone was taking advantage of our situation, her vulnerability, and her drinking issue, and it wasn't me (After every 'evening' out with her co-worker, it was evident she was supporting their outings obvious by the receipts she leave out or in the trash. I always found it funny that she would pay for their outings, but she'd 100% make me pay for ours not to mention the 60/40 rent slit she'd not pay equal amounts of after she started up with her 'boy'.).

She started to tear, "I wanted to be there for you at your surgery. I took the time off and moved my vacation time around twice, so I could be there, but your surgery date changed, and I couldn't get everything else taken care of in time. It doesn't even matter, I had to be here cause you had me arrested, and I spent the night in jail!"

It was true. I had called the police leading to her arrest three weeks before my departure home, but the reasons why she thought I did it were completely different than why it actually happened.

Friday, December 28th, 2012: 6:15 PM ......The Hollywood Home: Approximately One Month Earlier.......Part Two

It was another long day at the office. As the day's end approached, I got eager to make it home and see what my night would entail. Would it be a night Fae was left home to share some time with me or would she leave into the night....inebriated only making it back, barely, in time to see the sun rise. This was the cause of most of my anxiety the nights she'd get into an ever changing car (I would make my way down to take a picture of the car noting the plate number, vehicle type and model...just in case.) that would pick her up or she would drive.

Fae was on the second of a four day weekend which was becoming her normal schedule through the VA were she worked as an RN. The days prior started out fairly rough with random heated arguments about seemingly non-topics but important ones nonetheless.  The never ending conversation with Esteban and nights out with my him had started to increased in frequency. But, when we could agree and ignore the obvious heated topics, we'd find our way to do something festive like watching the Holiday parade go by on Hollywood Boulevard or attempt to keep up with the neighbors' seasonal light displays on their patios. However long it lasted, it was usually a good time that involved cooking, speaking to each other constructively; it was an momentary pause from the dramatic life we were caught up in by what seemed now to be circumstance. We were living and still sharing life together mostly but separately depending on the day.

As I approached the door, the all so familiar conversation had already been in swing, and my entrance into the place didn't stop it. Listening to her make fun of our situation and what they would be planning when I was "out" of the picture was aggravating. His voice--slower, dense and ethnic in nature--could be heard any number of feet away from the kitchen where she stood watching me enter into the place. She would Que her 'boy' an account of it attempting to cut the call short normally, but he couldn't or wouldn't stop talking.

"I'm pretty sure I asked you to either leave the apartment or discontinue your conversation with your 'boy' when I'm home. Could you at least be respectful of that?" I'd say only to have her ignore me. Repeating myself only lead to a number of defiant disrespectful looks. They were the looks I had grown to be familiar with over the last few weeks; most of them were the attitude and persona of the girl Fae would become once the alcohol flowed through her system. Already a bottle of wine down and looking for it's replacement, (I had began keeping track of her drink as it seemed her ideal of one or two glasses of wine or other alcohol seemed slightly off when I'd ask her how many drinks she had had at any point.) she would pretend that it was just her second glass or so. I guess had I not been a professional doorman a good number of years, I might not have questioned it, but I was, and I was really good at noticing the slightest level of 'buzz' someone was experiencing. My question of how much she had had to drink lead to her putting the phone on speaker mode to further amplify the conversation she was having with her boy to drown out my voice.

My response was simple....

"Fine. Put your 'boy' on speaker so I can more clearly hear how you down-graded in your quest to be...what was it your supervisor asked you before...Oh, yeah, 'are you universal (meaning did she date non-white people)?' But whatever, I'm sure your friends will approve of your choice once they get a chance to know you're with an East Compton thug." I could hear him saying, 'What did he say?' I laughed telling Fae to inform Esteban, "I don't speak thug." And so started the dual verbal assault between her and her co-worker via speaker phone.

This lead to a very critical move on my part. I began to finish moving the rest of the bedroom furniture out of the place into the hallway.

"What are you doing?" she said angrily attempting to block my way out of the apartment.
"Well, you haven't given me a payment plan on how you intend to pay for the furniture that you want to buy from me. So, when you can do that and pay me or start paying for it, I'll bring things back to you. Otherwise, it's going to storage...as I 100% paid for it myself," I said very smoothly and in an even toned voice.

"You are a coward!" she began to say tauntingly with her 'boy' who was attempting to chime in via her mobile phone."  "A coward...really. Is that why you're using 'our' girl and her already drunk condition to insult me versus being in front of me to do so....or is it you that's the coward?" I thought and then said, "Get out of my way. You can have your mule help you buy new stuff, deliver it to the apartment, and....Oh yeah, help you assemble it too."

"I said I would buy all this stuff from you," she started to yell and visibly become more aggressive in her mannerisms toward me as she realized the insults weren't stopping me moving of the furniture out.

"You did say that, but like I just said, you've not provided me with either a written agreement or give me any money for the stuff," spouting out as I continued to move our dresser cubes. "Besides, who's to say you will pay after I leave and the stuff stays....cause once I sign off on the lease I'll not be able to come back here and take it or make you pay."  I wasn't gonna fall into a 'dumb' move by not having an agreement that was enforceable in a court of law or be in control of my belongings. It seemed to make sense to me at least.

Her tag-teaming with Esteban in our conversation was annoying; it was the only way he would 'interface' with me, behind the skirt of the girl he must have talked himself into believing he was in love with or as I mention earlier, just taking advantage of considering our situation and her drinking issue (maybe not realizing he was the pawn). It was a developing sentiment that would make itself much more clear in their email correspondence to each other in the weeks to follow. I was already starting to loose my cool.

Either way, a 32 year old RN that had been working for nine months just out of school and service time but still not managing to make it out of his mama's house in East Compton seemed to me to be a highly suspicious circumstance.

"How does one not manage to have even a shared space of their own to 'facilitate' a relationship with any woman, let alone a white-middle class one from the North?" I'd asked. And her answer bothered me, "People have circumstances."

"I guess," I spat out with a high level of criticism and disbelief. It was a circumstance that didn't even make sense to her as various similar conversations on the topic had come and gone, but he was the option she allowed to persist "outside" of our relating. It was an 'option' no one else had any knowledge of--not her parents, her friends, or even her ex-husband......until I politely informed them all. (Because as far as I could tell, all her parents and friends knew was that we weren't getting along and our conflicting personalities were the cause of most of our arguments. Maybe they'd see the story a little differently if they knew she was trying to get her husband back into her life, which she managed to do, and taking on a different relationship with a co-worker in the middle of it. Maybe it was those "extra people" that were also contributing to the problem......maybe.)

I had to wonder what story Fae was selling this guy so he would continue (or maybe not) to look past the obvious--she was a woman still living with a man she moved across the country to start a new life with as well as still struggling to let a past divorce go. It made no real sense to me or any other professional I presented the matter to for an outside opinion.....except it did, all of it, the multiple 'truths' and the segregation of the people those truths were being told to.."maybe her ex-husband was right," I thought again. "Maybe."

Her drinking bouts had increased in the days approaching my departure as did her physical need to express herself to me, which started with the throwing of random things that would eventually end in holes in the walls and eventually physical strikes at me.

Fae's Shadow Life...The Past Brought Into The Present....

Her move to California in the middle of June had seemed delayed and, according to her, by and largely undesired. She quietly wanted to be in her former home and back in a marriage with her ex-husband--a fact she had reminded me of constantly as we had entered into September only three months after our move-in together. She had, according to her, been forced to leave and move in with her parents the two years prior-- the reason: "He threatened me with a gun, beat my my dog, etc." It was during this period of time that I met her--the second year out of  her former home. It was over the course of this year, the beginning of her second year of living with her parents that I got to know her.... as well as anyone can get to know someone via text messages, periodic phone calls, and a fairly nightly conversation via Skype. Most of these would end with one of us passing out considering her nursing schedule--out at midnight (Central Time).

Of course, the nearly monthly visits home for business of some sort or another afforded us some "real" time together. The time together eventually would add up and overcome her desire to be home where everybody knew everybody, and would live their lives doing the same things annually, ritualistically not always realizing maybe there is a different way to live. Besides, having mutual friends with an ex-anything is really only putting yourself in the information pathway that you either need.....or should avoid. I reasoned with her that maybe a temporary transition to California may be good, for a while, so she could air-out from her former marriage and get some new perspective. At least, so I thought...

It was mid September when I got an unsuspected phone call. "Hello, this is Johnny, Fae's ex-husband. I'm only talking to you as a courtesy, cause I wish someone had extended me the same gesture when I was dealing with Fae in our marriage....You have your hands full," he'd say repeatedly the week before her visit home to MN. I knew what he was talking about but wasn't sure what it all meant.

"Before you say anything else, Johnny," I said to him not really knowing him beyond what Fae had described him as or her parents description of him for that matter, "Please be aware that I will take everything you say at face value. I will hold you accountable for every word that comes out of your mouth. Choose your words wisely and watch what you say to me cause I will clearly take Fae's side," managing to say it with some level of firmness.

"Can you tell Fae to stop contacting me! She's emailing me, calling, etc., and it's got my girlfriend a little freaked out. I'm trying to get a restraining order on her, but it seems I can't do that cause she doesn't have an address here," he said with some level of question as to how.

"A restraining order?!" I thought, but I actually said, "I"m not sure that I'm the person to be asking about that type of action, but if you don't want to be contacted by her, why are you responding to any contact she's attempting to have with you?" "Cause she said she wants my help to move back home to MN," as he laughed never really answering the question.

Patricia, one of Fae's wedding bridesmaids was now her ex-husband's live-in girlfriend, and that pretty much qualifies as messed up on both their parts: the bridesmaid and the ex-husband. Not to mention what that does to the now ex-wife...must've messed with her, but it  made sense as to why Johnny and Patricia were wanting some legal distancing in place having had a colorful police history at the address.

"Hmmm." I thought. Regardless of whomever was making the 9-1-1 calls, either the neighbors, her parents, herself, or the new live-in girlfriend, Fae had in been involved in one way or another as the public records had indicated in over a half dozen incidents even after she had moved out. The life she had "wanted back" so badly was either as bad as she described it or had been made so sensational so as to draw the attention away from other looming facts in the making of all that drama.

By all accounts given by her parents, and herself, it was her ex-husband that was the violent one or the cause of the disruptions. It was he, according to her, that put a gun to her head, beat her dog, and later lead to her vacating the home by force when she would take up asylum at her parent's place. With all those descriptors, one could only want to sympathize and take the side of the story their loved one told without question. Who would make up that kind of stuff? And even if we may think to ask the obvious questions, you wouldn't cause your friend or your child is in need, and you're left with the 'truth' as it's presented to you. I believed her cause I had a personal interest in us as we were starting out, but I continued to wonder.

For months I had asked Fae questions about how things really had been between her and her ex-husband to which most of her responses had been to mind my own business. But now, being validated by various comments her ex-husband had made, the questions regarding her past separation from her husband, and the events that lead to it were much more clear. Something from her past was also happening in the "here and now." Fae and me had had our "truth" talk about how she ended up at her parents, but it hadn't completely made sense to me. Johnny, after some questioning, said he'd forced her out of the place cause she'd been maintaining and expressing inappropriate feelings of "love" and the subsequent behavior for a third party person to their relationship while attempting to reconcile their marriage. It turned out to be an ex-boyfriend she had demanded Johnny to allowed in her life, "...cause I had know him before Johnny, and I shouldn't have to give up my friends," she said as her reasoning. Unfortunately, his allowance had gone too far essentially allowing Fae a "Plan B" to their reconciliation process in the event they couldn'd come to terms. "Hard to reconcile when you have another guy in your pocket that you're using as a bargaining tool," I'd think while taking in the various conversations.

Then it started to hit me. Her stated "confusion" about our relationship had come from feelings she not only had for me (appropriate), but also her co-worker (unexpected and inappropriate) as well as her ex-husband (never really having let them go...her 'guilt' of the situation she had 'not figured out' why she had done what she had done)....and not to mention that original Plan B guy from the fall-out of their marriage. It wasn't that she had shared feelings for all of us at one time, but rather it was her having feelings for us all individually..a different persona per person it seemed--simultaneously. This is were the confusion came from--the inter-conflict of the personas. I guess I'd be confused too considering. Johhny thought she had "multiple personality disorder (MPD)". He was close in his guessing but off when all the factors were taken into consideration. She has a similar but different psychological problem it seemed as I took in the rest of the stories and 'field' information.

Unfortunately, Fae's 'old habits' as her ex-husband called them in various emails to her and in texts to me--had been at play. This is what was happening with us. She had started to care, again for the person I had become when it seemed ridiculous to keep being critical of her knowing I'd only have so much more time left with her. This kinder, gentler non-critical change was not part of her mental program for me, and she had already started to run. And her hesitation to me, and her eventual brutality towards me, came cause of all the things we thought we got over involving the truth--her truth. It just turned out her new third-party person--Esteban--was also pushing his own agenda while we were attempting to work ours out,which she allowed; it was her way of dealing with her fear of being left alone...I guess.

7:38 PM .....Approximately One Hour After My Initial Arrival Home From Work.

As Fae's anger fueled from my unwillingness to stop moving my furniture out of the place, not to mention the number of shots she was now putting down like water, her inability to control her expression of anger evaporated. She would temporarily hang up the line with her boy, but she then, again, started pushing and eventual striking me. It was the third time she had done it. The two previous times came with warnings to not touch me in her anger or drunkenness or face the consequences of her actions. All of her outburst and angry talk came when she was drinking or fresh out of a conversation with her 'boy' as it turned out, and that night was no different than any of the ones preceding it except one--a night I would reach out to her and break through her anger and hug her knowing that somewhere inside all of this--the drinking, the anger, the physical violence--was a person struggling to communicate and be heard/understood. I embraced her strongly that night and broke through to her. She would eventually let up and calm down passing-out on top of me on either the sofa or the floor like other nights. 

By nature, I'm a lover and not a fighter, and till this very moment as you read this story have not broken a promise to myself. The promise is simple, "Never lay a hand on a woman in anger or in any aggressive fashion," as my step-father had done in his drunkenness and anger toward my own mother. So, I did the next best thing one can do when you know your starting to loose your cool, and you can't reason with a drunk. I call 9-1-1.

"9-1-1 emergency. What is your emergency?" said the control board operator. "I'm calling to report a domestic violence incident." And so went the conversation that Fae finally chimed in on as she got Alis ready to leave the apartment realizing I actually had made the call. She walked out notifying her 'boy' I had done so. When the police arrived, the officers took in all of the pertinent information to include the fact that we were both professionals with licenses to be concerned about.

"I called you to intervene because she's losing it with her drinking, and her recent physical battery of me is unexceptable. Of course I can take it, and I could defend myself, but the minute I do that, my license is on the line," I'd said noting the officers' disbelief that the woman I had described could actually make a dent in me. They were more concerned, as I was, that she would leave driving...drunk, as she would do on several occasions to where ever her 'boy' would have her drive to so as to meet him away from our place. They said she would be arrested if she came back to the place or came to close to me and or felt I might need to defend myself. 

Within, the hour, the police had circled back to the building for another call and had passed by the apartment after I had seen Fae return. I showed her the paperwork the officers had given me stating exactly what I had told her. "If you are here and you become violent, the police are gonna arrest you if I'm within the building," she shrugged me off not believing me. As I left the apartment to give her time to get ready to do whatever she was going to do, I returned to see the officers were already in the process of arresting her. I was immediately conflicted as it was likely too strong an action for her to deal with in her mental state. But, as she looked for me to intervene, the officer instructed me to remain silent and would then leave me instructions on what to do next. It would be a few hours before she would be able to be located in the system during which I spent picking up all the things she had dumped out of the drawers in her "attempt" to help me out of the place. "At least she was safe for the night," I thought.

In the hours that followed I struggled to know what the appropriate thing to do was. "Do I call her parents and tell them their daughter went to far again as they should've know from her colorful past," I thought to myself questioning if I had made the right decision. What I did do was text her ex-husband that I had called the police on her to which his reply was more laughter than it was of concern. As the hours passed, I would start to get phone calls from an unrecognized number; it turned out to be Fae calling me collect from the LA Metro Detention Center. Her conversation to me was simple....

"I need you to help me get out of here," she said a few times in a partially paranoid voice. I informed her I had no idea where she was or how I would go about doing so, but I was working on it. The conversation would eventually end with her agreeing to three basic requirements for what would be two basic things she wanted in exchange from me getting her out of jail at that point....

"Will you to answer a question for me. Will you do that?" She said, "Yes." 

"Take a good look around you. You don't belong there at all. I'm sorry you are there, but you have to ask yourself a question, 'How did I end up here?' Do you know how you ended up there?" I said in a slightly firm but concerned voice.

"No. I don't apart from you had me arrested because you were angry at me for f'n some other guy," she say starting to change her tone of voice.

"If that were the case, I would've had you arrested two months ago, but that's not why you are there. You are there because you broke the law when you struck me. You struck me because you were drunk; you were and likely still are buzzing from the alcohol in your body. You drink way too much alcohol when you're on the line or hanging out with that neanderthal. The combination of those two elements, the alcohol and your 'boy' helped you make very, very poor choices like drinking and driving. And like tonight, striking me. Am I being clear with you?" I said slightly condescending tone while making sure she was following.

"I will help you out of jail as soon as I can find you, but you will have to agree to a few things till we can work out the legal charges now being put together against you. They are as follows: One: You will stop drinking, and seek out a substance abuse counselor to help you. Two: You will temporarily cease all communication with your co-worker less work-related contact with him at the job. Three: You will participate good faith conversations with me about what has happened here. Am I clear? Do you understand what I am asking you?" She agreed that she did. Participation in good will dialog was needed beyond her normal participation in every other aspect of our non-relationship. 

Now the more difficult thing was to find her. It would be nearly sunrise when I would find her and be instructed that she needed to be let out on bail....a 20k bail that it is. Ha. If she waited for her arraignment on Monday, she would would've have had to pay anything, but she was freaking out it seemed. So much so, that she had already broken her agreement to not contact her co-worker Esteban, whom magically beat me in posting her bail only to have me pick her up. I felt really bad and guilty she had gotten arrested but had determined I would have felt worse if she had gotten into a wreck or her 'boy' somehow hurt her as there continued to be evidence on her physical person and in her conversation that something was amiss apart from their teen-aged activities in the back seat of her truck. For the ride home from Downtown Metro, she was quiet, unsure of what had just happened, and what needed to happen next. 

The following day, Sunday, Fae insisted that I transfer the bail bond to my name so as to take responsibility for the 20K and not keep Esteban involved. I agreed that I would listen to the stipulations of it, but ultimately, I was uncomfortable in trusting that she would perform and left it in her mule's name not wanting to give anyone a tactical advantage over me. After all, it was her 'boy' that decided to get involved at that level, and he should've cause he was the driving force behind her explosive behavior the night of her arrest. What he likely didn't calculate was my involving the police. But now, he was demanding that the 2K, the needed 10% to get a bail bond, be dropped off or returned to him immediately! I would ask Fae, "Why? Why did he put that money down if he really didn't have it in the first place? That seems strange to you doesn't it?" I'd ask her noting a level of question in her eye. What was more interesting is that he wouldn't agree to it being wired, Western Unioned over to him or just take a certified check in the mail with a priority tracker on it. All to fishy it seemed to me. He wanted it hand delivered to him at his mother's place in East Compton. "Ha. This guy must think I'm an idiot," I thought but had already hatched a plan for the exchange.

"Let your 'boy' know, we'll let him know where to meet us 30 minutes before but not at his place," I instructed Fae.. She was reluctant to do it but did noting the obvious break in her agreement to not talk to her co-worker while we figured out our legal issues. And, she was afraid I was going to continue to press charges against her.

"You tell him to meet us at the out-let mall in Commerce in 30 minutes. If he's late, the deal is off. If he comes with anyone beyond one person, we're leaving. Make sure he understands that," I'd instruct Fae. 

One never knows what to expect when dealing with "hoodies" from East Compton, and having a rich history of dealing with gangs in Minneapolis, I didn't want to show up and be surrounded. 

"30 minutes in front of Star'land' coffee where there are plenty of people," I continued to tell Fae as we started our way over. The photo of the two that I had encountered along with some other relevant locating information had already been forwarded to a few friends from SD that had confirmed they were already on-site and "heavy" awaiting our arrival. When in doubt, call in a favor from the boys at Pendleton. If anything suspicious was going to happen, I wanted it to be very public, on the parking lot cameras, and have a way in and necessarily a way out if things went south. I also wanted to make sure Fae was safe considering. It's better to be over-prepared than, again, show up with your pants down. 

Fae was tense asking questions about my conversation with an old buddy of mine and how it seemed to not really be the time to talk to on the way to hand over a 2K check to her co-worker. He was somehow playing "HERO" (So would imply their email correspondence in the following days). Not a big deal I thought, as we approached the drop-site. We would be exposed from at least three directions as the exchange was to happen. The text came into me that I had already been ID as were the incoming personalities by my team. The co-worker hadn't come alone, which was obvious to my observers but not to Fae and only making my knowledge as a couple approached. Two other personalities beyond the co-worker's mule were in the area pretending to be casual shoppers. Again, a fact that Fae would never see or buy. 

As the couple approached, Fae recognized the male--Esteban's cousin. The female that accompanied him looked at Fae with disgust. She would actually grab the check and review it for the correct amount. "Funny," I thought but said a number of things in Spanish to including an apology for the inconvenience. 

As we walked away, Fae seemed she wanted to run up to her co-worker and explain what was happening as if he didn't know somehow. 

"Go ahead. Go talk to your co-worker, but remember, you agreed not to. You can do whatever you want, but you have made requests of me to drop those charges. If you want me to keep my end of the deal, you better keep yours. Or, I'll see you in court." I stated with anger while reading my team's input on the scene and our eventual "clearing" as we drove off. She would continue her secret conversation with him after the fact through email versus text messaging as the sound was a dead give-away (where there's a will there's a way); it would've been less obvious if there were other people texting her, but she had all but stopped communicating with her Minnesota friends less her husband that she managed to convince into a regular dialog again via email. It seemed she had achieved her primary objective that had under-pinned our whole relationship's problem--not getting over why she had destroyed their marriage in the first place and her husband's rejection of her because of it. I guess. 

Saturday January 19th...The Hollywood Home: Approximately Three Hours Before My Departure To The Homeland-MN. 

The weeks that followed the arrest were interesting to say the least, but she did attempt to keep her end of the deal while trying to regain the control of her life. Fae managed to get through two whole weeks without drinking. She did this largely avoiding places that served alcohol till her friends came into town the day before my departure for surgery. She actually made it to one counselling session to which she would, as she always had in the past, disqualified the professional as not knowing what she was doing and continued to evade needed help. Her avoidance she stated, was based on the notion that it would jeopardize her nursing license. 

"I hate you, and I love you," she'd say with some frequency as she started drinking again. At that point, I had already had her charges dropped, help make her court date essentially 'null' clearing the pathway for her to actually go home, but she stayed in California. I was hoping for her to drive me to the airport, but she wouldn't stating it would be too much of an emotional ride for her to see me walk away to my impending end and her having to drive back home alone. As we hugged each other strongly, cried, and eventually kissed, I would start to remember all the better things that had transpired between us in our time together. We had reached the end of the road in those moments, and as much as I wanted her to drop what she was doing and come with me, I knew it was an impossibility. The web of lies she had propagated to everyone was spun. Something would have to die in the situation in order for it to be rectified for another time or life if that were even a possibility, and that death would be my own (Titanium by Madilyn Bailey).

"Call me when you get to airport," she'd say as I started my way to my jeep. "Ok. I will," I said as I turned and made my way to the elevator. As I started my green machine up, I saw her come down with her dog Alice to the garage to watch me drive away. I nearly lost it emotionally, but I didn't wanting to appear strong. Her eyes were full of emotion and starting to tear. "I love you, " she said. I repeated it back to her, shook my head in agreement, and started to pull forward. 

As I drove down the roadway to the airport, I had decided how the plan would unveil. It was then that I finally got it together and turned on my radio. Maroon Five's "Pay Phone was playing..."How fitting," I thought. When I arrived to the gate at LAX's Terminal 3, I called only to get her voice mail knowing full well it meant our visitor was already there or had her on the line and likely the reason she couldn't drive me. There it is.

Recovery: Surviving & Reconstruction The Dream 

Prologue

The layer of morning fog started to lift or got burned off in this picture giving it an overall look of haziness. It was mid July 2013, and I'm at the top of Runyon Canyon. It was in in the apartments just off of Hollywood and Highland Blvd there that I had lived with my former Minnesota girlfriend just a few months prior. It was there I would find out I had cancer, and where I would start to watch the life I dreamed about slip away. 

As is my custom arriving to the top of the climb, I raise one finger into the sky to honor my Creator while facing East to acknowledge the place I was born, Minnesota--the Home Land, and wondered. The solitary finger symbolizes a belief I maintain that all things are one and are written by the same hand. There is no separation that exists in the good or bad events that happen in ones life. But rather, it's how we respond to them that determines their real effect in our life. Knowing this, I would make the climb to the top of the canyon as often as I could to reflect on the events happening in my life and decide what to do next. Questions on why I lived past may last death encounter, loomed in my head. "Why I landed one of the most prestigious chiropractic roles in Beverly Hills just? "Why did some woman come to California to live with me at all considering and leave when it matter most? 

I had questions. Questions I often thought about as I wrote this story's prequel, "This Unbelievable Life." It's true. My life was unbelievable then, and it was killing me and saving me all in the same instant. Which brings me to the present--this story. In it, you will find events I left out of the first. You will hopefully understand the reasons why I did what I was doing to survive and live from day to day, and as I decided what I should ultimately do next. Maybe you will find the hope I lived with woven into it and see a steady determination to rise up out of it all. And just maybe, you'll see the belief that I have in myself.

July 14th, 2013  Ye Old Kings Head, Santa Monica, CA.

An Hour Into A Tribute Night Of Karaoke.....10:45 PM. 
"Fil Thunder and Fallon are up to bat next," the karaoke host virtually said laughing at us. We were regulars at the place, and having a valid third opinion on what to sing was important so as to disburse the crowd and motivate more people to sing, which would lead to more drinking and higher revenues for the bar, but secretly meant we might get some attention. Most of the bar staff new us, as did the other 'regular' singers at the place, but more importantly, the owner knew us. An old Brit was tying to make a buck with all the visiting tourist and the local population of service industry people. We'd get the periodic nod from him acknowledging we got the crowd up and the periodic shot or two that had been mysteriously "over poured" via Bret, our server. Fallon chit-chatted with a gal he'd been working on actually dating while I picked at the chips and made small talk with one of my local friends that had asked to join me for what might very have been my last performance at the pub. 

It had become my usual custom to make my way to Santa Monica later Sunday afternoons. After a day of random but purposed activities that involved getting coffee at Starbucks on Melrose after my morning hike, talking to my mentor if he answered the phone, and periodically walking around the Fairfax Trading Post flee market--it was here I would converse with one of my childhood movie stars, Drew Barrymore, or see Russel Brand doing his thing from time to time. This was part of my Sunday fun day that I found interesting apart from the thrift store shopping cause you never knew who you'd run into. Hahaha. Eventually, it would lead to the more important part of my day, the drive to Santa Monica on 10. I loved it...the drive. Driving towards the sunset was always relaxing; it came with a sense of excitement as well as offered a chance for me to reset for the next week of opportunity and leave the previous week's ups or downs behind. It somehow made everything "normal" even when I passed the exit to the VA Hospital. Seeing all the beautiful people,  having detailed conversations with strangers at the Barnes and Noble on the famed 3rd Street Promenade, the sun setting over the Malibou coast-line, and the bright and flickering lights of the Board Walk coming to life was soothing. All of it would eventually lead to my walking into an old pub where I would become a regular.

As we got up to grab the mics, the crowd started to whistle. A few more people had come in since we started and each of us had sang at least one song to warm up, but now we'd be singing together. Tarin looked us and asked, "What are you gonna sing?"
"I'm not sure. What do you think?" I asked laughing while looking at Fallon for any suggestions.
"I'll sing whatever," he laughed while putting down his Hard Core Cider! 

The trouble with having two karaoke singers that are potentially good is that they have so many songs that they can sing high or low, slow or fast, and it didn't matter what they'd sing. 

"How about you sing, She's Gone, by Hall and Oats," Tarin the karaoke host mentioned deciding for us realizing we'd be there all night trying to pick a song.  

The bar staff kept busy as the crowd grew. The whistles and random yelling of either of our names started to settle slightly as Fallon started off the song. He had a voice that could cut glass clean and grab your attention easily. Over the two years that I had been signing at the place, I'd kept my eye open for people that were locals and had talent. I had already been in the process of finding a band to sing in or put one together after I'd started singing there with some regularity. People could sing, but he really could sing....anything, and having a set of vocals is key to any chance of success in the LA market. He didn't know it, but I was gradually getting to become singing rivals with him only to become friends with him and have him partner up with me so we could lay down some 'cover' tracks on an album. I know. I was talent shopping. 

The bourbon and seven I had been working on went down smooth. It was the alcohol least likely to give me a headache or hang-over if I was gonna have any more than two. But two was my limit for good reasons--I had to drive back to East or West Hollywood, and I had to put on my dark knight outfit the next morning and walk into work by 730 AM with a million dollar smile and a clean, and calm demeanor that could only be read as, "In control, content, and ready to serve you," for my patients. But, tonight was different. I wasn't gonna be driving down Sunset or Santa Monica Boulevard to get to work tomorrow. All I had to do was worry about getting to the airport the next day and not the office. I was flying back to Minnesota, the Home Land, for an indefinite period of time. As I held the mic in my hand and panned the crowd with my eyes, my eyes fixed on a spot toward the bar counter where I would usually stand to see a taller, dark haired girl with light eyes and an inviting smile. As I harmonized the dual part of the song with Fallon, my thoughts had started to drift to one of the first times I had been to the place just a few years prior. 

June 23, 2010 A Taste of India, Santa Monica, California (Three years prior.)  

Finishing the two dishes we had ordered with an extra bowl of sticky rice, Kristin or Kris as she had started to request being called, smiled at me asking if I had remembered the first time we'd eaten there just some nine moths earlier. 

"Remember when we drove down here for the day and took that picture of us in front of the Merry-Go-Round on the pier?" "Hahaha. How could I forget!" I said reminding her that it was the picture she, "knew" I was gonna cut her out of after we had broken up some months prior. As we laughed and caught up about the months that we had spent apart from each other, I recalled all of her stories about Santa Monica, her former love and tragic death just down the PCH near Malibu, and the aftermath of her life since. She was sweet, strong, and calculating. In her mind, she had already developed a plan to convert her massage population of clients into a chiropractic one, where she would do it, and how she would manage her family's legacy as it was always her opinion that her other siblings where, by and large, incapable of it. All this and she had only completed her first year of chiropractic school. 

"None of that stuff matters to me," I said looking into her deep caramel eyes. "What does matter is that you can be you and be happy with who you are, be at peace with what's happened to you, and find joy in what you do... and maybe share some of your time with me." 

She looked at me in slight disbelief as if she had heard the words before in her past. Noticing her drift, I made my best attempt at telling a joke.
"Hey! How do you get a tissue to dance?" I spouted out. She looked at me half in disbelief and half laughing. 

"Wait a minute...I told you that joke!" I laughed back. "It's true. You did," but lets keep the joke in play!" as I motioned the server to bring the bill. 

I paid for the check as it was one of the few times in graduate school and the time just after it that I had any 'free' cash. I wanted to get to a point where I wasn't struggling. I wanted to succeed knowing her parents, well her mother at least, had disapproved of our getting back together for whatever the reasons were. Her father, on the other hand, had his own opinion on the matter as he too had pursued her mother in dentistry school after she had broken it off with him. And he got her back, and there seemed to be something noble in standing firm in your belief in the better parts of people and an even older notion...that enough love could heal someone that was hurt by it or something like it in the past. In there some where was the unexpressed need to perform and produce so as to be "equally yoked." I understood it, and knew that I would need to rise up in the economic social class eventually to find some acceptance in Kris's mother's mind as I was proverbially from Reseda and they lived in Encino. 

When we left, the Karaoke light had just turned on or had become more obvious in the setting sun. "Hey, can we walk across the street and see what that place is like," pointing the pub where I would eventually sign up as Fil Thunder in the following year. It was the name a couple of sisters that actually had a rock band in Boston dubbed me while the older sister visited and auditioned with the lead singer of Fuel, Brett Scallions for an upcoming chic band. Abbey Dragon and Brit Lightning...the two sisters from Boston and myself would lunch with this guy on that visit where I would first be given "Thunder."

"Sure! I'm not feeling up to singing, but if you want to you can," she said with a warm smile and slight level of discomfort from the very likely event that we had eaten too much! When we walked in, a moderate number of people were in watching some sports game while the area that would later become the singing stage was being cleared. A server walked up and asked if we needed a table. Her hair was long, straight and blonde.

"We're good. Just looking and checking out the karaoke part of your place," I mentioned trying to see past her glasses.
 "Yeah, it'll get started in a while, but grab a table now if you want to stay cause it gets real busy," she mentioned and smiled walking away. 

We left and drove back to Kris's parents' place to prepare for our drive up to their mountain home in Mammoth Lakes, California. It was a five hour drive in the summer season but an eight hour drive in the Winter. It was one of her escapes from the life she lived or the memories that followed her. There, in the calming mountain scenery and flowing mountain rivers, she would find quiet as she did in the semi crazy streets of Santa Monica. And, for whatever her reasons, she shared them with me for the time letting me a little closer to her. It was her goal to become independent of their amassed wealth and make her mother proud. A massage therapist that found chiropractic after a car wreck and her eventual decision to take up the profession where we met--Palmer College of Chiropractic West. We would part ways come that August just a few months after we got back together. In the hustle of it, I would find a few short-term working interviews for local chiro docs hoping to "absorb" new talent that needed bread and butter money, and I needed it...even if it was just the bread. 

The Conversation With The Corporation's Recruiter 
(Two months after Chiropractic Graduation). 
A late night conversation with Kris one fine late August Tuesday ended the relationship and a time-line for me to move out as I had "temporarily" moved in was out-lined. It lead to all kinds of social story telling that in the end didn't matter. The following day, a call came to me from a group out West in Michigan.

"Hello!" I said softly while taking in the sun from the pool patio. 
"It's Kate!.....Remember I mentioned there might be other opportunities for you to do some work for the Corporation?" She said with some level of enthusiasm.
"I do. How can I be of service to you?" is what I usually say to people making request of me. 
"Well there's a spot that opened up on on national touring group. You speak Spanish and your a health expert already, and we thought you'd be a natural shoe in considering your ability to talk to anyone.

"No significant income and still processing for a professional license to ask for more pay is a rock, a hard place and ticket for a run-away train," I thought to myself, but said, "Tell me more." 

"There's a catch to it. You'd have the interview tomorrow via phone with an eleven person panel, and if they decide they're comfortable with you as a replacement, you'd have to come to Michigan next Monday for a few corporate training days. That's the easy part. After you're done with training, you'll be meeting up with your partner for the road and you're gonna go to Philadelphia for the following 24 days. Then you'd be flown home or where ever you want for the week and be send off for another month and repeat all of the above until you finish in Boston in November."

My initial instinct was to say, "Sounds good," but I asked how I would actually be getting to the Corporation and so forth. "As important, how much will I be paid for the time, etc.?" 
Kate's response was slightly unbelievable as I hadn't dealt with corporate dollars before...much less a multinational one. 

"Is there anyone else you need to discuss the amount of time you'll be gone for as it's been one of the bigger problems we've had with people; they get home-sick or their partners start to cause problems.

"Let me get back to you later today with the answer to that one," I said to her assuring her I'd do it by the end of the day East Coast Time. 

As I hung up the line, I thought about my situation for what seemed to be an eternity. I have a lot of money. I was soon gonna be homeless because of it, and the break-up's was necessitating my immediate move out. I had to read the signs and read between the lines. For the dollar amount and time needed, I would have more than enough money to move, start practice and not some tight-ass Chiro, and I'd have an immediate 'out' of the situation I was in with just one three letter word, "Yes." 

Twenty minutes later, I called Kate back and asked her to schedule me for the phone interview. Within days, I was on my way to the Corporation for back-ground screening, official scripting, ID cards, corporate credit cards, a project manager that essentially did all of my travel arrangements from door-step to door-step, and a the beginning of what seemed to be a different life. Everything I needed was provided for me to include the first half of the month's income upfront (Four times what my contemporaries were earning working twice as many hours per month) to help take care of the immediate transition. 

One week after the conversation I had with Kris about ending the relationship, I found myself in a vehicle with a person I had only met a few days before at corporate HQ in a city I'd only been to the airport of en route to Europe in years past. It confused everyone to include myself (...kinda). Kris was sure what to think to the point she had to take inventory again of what she had asked me politely to do--move out-- letting me leave all of my things in her place and their appropriate places. She even volunteered to keep an eye on my legendary jeep while I was away the first two months, and the completion of a couples study we had started before the break up. Funny. 

By the end of the November 2010, three months later, I had moved into a town home just a few miles away in Aliso (an area at the very North tip of the San Jose area), rented a space to practice chiropractic and resumed what I thought my life was in California. The dimming situation, as it was, had changed. Just before Thanksgiving, I had been flown back to the Corporation to interview for a role as one of the actual "Suits" that flew around the country to educate and, at times, correct the information that was being used to sell it's agenda by its distributors. Eventually, I would be station in the Greater Los Angeles area where I would become known as one of the so called people in black (cause our basic attire consisted of a black suit and tie). I was a chiropractic doc among the Ph.D's, actresses, scientists, and the general rank and file personalities of the Corporation out selling health, beauty, and home products. It was in the weeks I had to be in Los Angeles that I'd find my way back to the karaoke pub in Santa Monica. When we're trying to create a new routine in an unknown place we visit the places we know, and I knew a British Pub in Santa Monica, which very quickly entering the Spring of 2011 would become one of my regular places to spend time. I guess there was always a part of me that had hoped I'd run into Kris one day on the Promenade or even at the Pub, but it never happened. What did happen after the invoices I billed the Corporation got paid was my eventual visit back to the Home Land one fine Memorial Day weekend.  

A Couple Of Hours Into The Tribute Night Of Karaoke....11:30 PM.  
As the song ended and the crowd cheered, I made my way to bar counter. There, where I had been fixated a few moments during our performance was a woman giving me a thumbs up. I didn't pay much attention to it or her as it was just part of the show I got used to giving whenever I did sing. "I perform, and people cheer or I get a shot, and then I go home," I thought as I said, "Thanks for the thumbs up!"

The woman had an accent that I couldn't quite make out; it was either British or Australian. It was a pretty common one in that place with a youth hostel right around the corner. Most the tourist would spend a night there to get there bearings for the City and then go elsewhere. It's what made going to karaoke fun! People from everywhere showed up to sing...some good...some bad...and a few really bad! Hahaha. Either way, it was worth the drive to be entertained or even have the occasional conversation with a foreigner or drop-in celebrity. 

"You're like a 9.0, but your buddy, what's his name?...He's a 10!" she said pointing at my singing buddy Fallon. 
"Wait. Are you sayin a 9.0 in looks or singing?" Laughing out loud. 
"Singing! Although, you two are about even for different reasons in the looks department!" 
"Hahaha!" Laughing out loud again. By now Bret, the straight, blonde haired server was in front of me asking if I needed anything else. Her calm and soft face had become part of my karaoke experience. It was only the week before that she had discovered I was a chiropractor. This was largely due to keeping my professional life separate from my private life even though most of the desk staff new to ask how my night of sing had gone when I walked in on Monday mornings.

I continued to laugh realizing my normal 'walk him or her over and introduce them to each other' stick wasn't gonna work today. I would've invited her anyway for the company most nights, but I had a guest with me that needed some attention, and so as to prevent a talking match between the girls, I left her at the bar and made my way back to the table. 

Eventually I'd be up to sing again. Only this time, it would be a solo endeavor. Picking a song to sing in a crowed bar can be picky. You could woo a crowd or get booed depending on what you sang and what they were in the mood for in that very moment. I hadn't picked a song, but as the karaoke host knew to start playing one, I quickly grabbed the mic and started singing Ataris' Boys Of Summer. It's in those few moments where the music starts and you start to sing that you're either gonna make it good or you're gonna F' it up. To complicate the matters, random people sometimes flood the stage area to "help" you out by dancing, singing or dancing on you, which isn't a bad thing if it's a hot chic...but that only happens in the movies! Lol. 

The mic felt natural in my hand as did all of the cheers from the crowd. It was my turn to be in the spot-light and pretend my real life wasn't happening or had happened. It was in those very few fleeting moments that I could sing my way into some other place in time where life was different; I'm not gonna say better, but different. As the braeless babe with the long and wild blonde hair with too short of shorts started to attack me with what could've only been moves from a "pole" dancing class, I was off and running. I often panned the room when it got frantic looking for her to walk in, but she wouldn't--she disliked the place, but I had hoped in my wildest imagination she would be there toasting me a good job at the very best. And, I would sing to her...
"I can see you. You brown skin shinning in the sun. You got your hair combed back, and your sunglasses on. I can tell you my love for you will still be strong after the boys of summer have gone...."who ever she was. 

As I started to work my way free of the 'pole' dancer and move around the bar, the crowd got wild. Thankfully the mic was wireless so moving away from the mob was at least an option. Eventually, the song would end, and I'd thank the crowd for, "enduring another song by me tonight. Rockin Roll!!" I don't know when I started saying that, but I found it coming out of my mouth all the time. It was the phrase I walked off the stage saying or used to dismiss myself from groups of people or even a date...when I managed to go on one that is. Sometimes, I'd catch myself saying it to my patients as we'd part ways at the spa desk after their treatment session was over as if it was a performance of some kind, and I had rocked it! Hahahaha.

I guess this was largely true. I was giving a performance most of time. I was a show...a finely tuned one that ran a delicate balance between my actual reality and the one that I was presenting to most people I encountered professionally or otherwise. I did this for one simple reason...I needed people around me. I didn't need to know them, but it was nice when I got some recognition from a regular coffee goer or a person hiking the canyon. They didn't have to talk to me. Although, the occasional conversation was a break from the silence I had grown used to most days I wasn't in the office interacting with patients, staff or Starbucks. All I needed was people around me doing their own thing to keep me in the present. Sure, I wore a mask. It seemed to make sense to me. I was protecting people I was interacting with from it, my real life and what was really happening in my head, and necessarily myself from them or their reactions to it.

There is a subtle lesson we learn growing up in society that says, 'People understand your situation...for a while, but eventually they want you to get over it.' And, when we don't, peoples' sympathy goes away and quietly turns into a sensation of annoyance for you or your situation. They find other things to do...other people to be around because maybe you'll go away or you'll stop talking about whatever is ailing you. Knowing this, I smiled when I saw people. Anything less then that cool, 'got it under control' demeanor might detour people away from me or keep them at a distance.

Taking my seat next to my guest and Fallon, the woman with the almost recognizable accent came over to join us for a few moments.
"Hey. You two could make a good living in Australia doing covers!" She said taking a seat to my right.
"Hello again. What's your name? And, more importantly, where is that accent from?" I said being polite and attempting to include Fallon in the transaction as well as the rest of the table.
"Guess!" She said half poking me with her finger pointing at my hair while setting her cocktail down. 
"I'm gonna say...British! Otherwise my next guess is.." I said as Fallon's date said, "Australian."
"Ha. That was my next guess," I interjected as it really was only one of two likely places in the world that people spoke that way. 

As the Aussie buttered my boy Fallon with compliments on his singing ability, I started in with the normal traveling conversation topics people ask when faced with a foreigner.  Where you from? How long have you been here or traveling? Where are you going to next? Are you traveling alone? These are the standard conversation pieces people spend all of the first few minutes or the whole night answering or asking attempting to determine if you or they were available to have a drink or two. It's not usually a segway to "let's get it on," but one learns to keep an open mind to people on the road and when traveling. You never know when you might need a useful piece of information or someone to talk to for a bit before you or they run off to their next adventure. It's a common courtesy in the traveling community. 

We are, by design, social creatures, and we need that external social interaction now and then to keep us feeling human. If you go too long without it, socializing, you run the danger of having your reality seem normal and perfectly fine when in fact it might not be. So went the conversation for a bit potentially filling her time, annoying my guest, and fluffing Fallon's feathers a bit before she ran off. 

It was about then that Bret, our server came over to check with us from time to time and point out that my guest had stepped outside for bit, "She's outside." 
"Thanks...I saw. I'm about to grab the mic. Could you bring me another one of these?" Pointing at my empty glass. I was more concerned with singing a song then attempting to explain travel culture courtesy to my guest.  
"Me too," chimed in Fallon, having taken in the scene attempting to figure out where my guest had gone and necessarily why. Our blonde haired server was off with a smiled. We both laughed at each other in recognition of our unspoken agreement watching her walk away--that either of us wouldn't date her if she ever freed up or just allowed it at all so as to not ruin our karaoke experience! Grabbing the mic, the crowd started to yell. The Back Street Boys' I Want It That Way has effect in karaoke bars. It was an ego booster for sure, but in other bars, in other parts of town, I had started to develop a another kind of ego booster... 

February 14, 2013  Birds Cafe/Bar, Hollywood, Ca.  
The Un-Valentine's Day Celebration.
Having worked a long couple of days in the office, the Hallmark holiday was upon me. Of coarse, I was freshly single and didn't want to have anyone special in my life to spend the dollars. So I did the next best thing--I went to a place where people that were, more or less, in the same or similar situation I was in or experiencing. Yup. There's nothing better than a descent drink to blind you just enough to enjoy the scenery! But, the scenery was good. Just a few blocks away from where I temporarily moved to leave my former home was a bar that really was like Cheers. People from the neighborhood frequented the place nearly daily. It was as if all life began and ended at the Birds Cafe. The regulars knew who the tourists were and often kept to themselves watching the 'entertainment' that walked in to the place nightly. 

It was my fortune that a bartender friend of mine from my distant past had made his way to the same street in Hollywood that not only I lived on but was also another Homelander friend of mine lived J.R.O. Three people from Minnesota living on the same street less than 200 feet from each other was a potential sign that I was in the right place. Whatever the case, it was comforting to have a few familiar faces from the past in my very real and immediate present.

"Do you want the Bourbon and Seven?" Andrew asked already pouring the drink into a tall glass. It was my drink of choice when I drank that is. 
"You know. I might take an order of those chicken fingers also," I said also asking for the baked potato. It was Valentine's Day and the people were starting to show up. The regular crowd was already in place getting their fill early hoping to avoid the anticipated crowd.

"Hey Dr. Fil," one of the ladies shot across the bar waving me to join her and her friend. 
Making my way over so as to not be stuck in a corner by myself to watch the evenings event unfold, I smiled back grabbing my cocktail on the way over. 
"Good evening ladies and cheers!" As I toasted the two laughing that we were there having a drink and not doing something else for the occasion. 
"Why are you now off with some hot thirty-something? Or is it twenty-somethings you go out with? I can never tell cause you're in and our of here in usually one cocktail!" Jill said laughing but also gauging my response. 

"Ha.Ha.Ha." I laughed. "To be honest, I stopped checking Ids when the bars stopped asking for them. So I couldn't really tell you, but I prefer maturer girls or are they woman when we attach mature to them?!" I smiled and toasted them again. They laughed and went on about their former Valentine's Day experiences. As they did, I thought of my day and its accomplishment. Yes, I may have been standing there entertaining a few more mature women for the conversation, but earlier that day, I was on a mission.

Santa Monica Boulevard, West Hollywood. 6:50 AM. (Earlier that day.)

What I had done to honor and likely annoy a my former significant other as I referred to her, was create a number of signs that were carefully spaced and placed along Santa Monica Boulevard heading West. Yeah, I was pretty proud of them! Not only did I manage to create 1x2 feet signs in bright colors with over-sized lettering, but I also managed to get them to stand firmly six feet in air so as to not get blown over by the wind and be easily read by passing traffic. It was a timed and calculated move on my part knowing that the signs would likely be taken down within 20 minutes or less but also that in those very minutes one of two people or both would be driving by on their way to work at 7:10 AM. A romantic gesture? Maybe. I thought of it more as a means to unsettle a certain East Compton boy and mess with a certain nurse's head while at the same time saying that I still might care. Again, a romantic gesture...I guess. I did really care for the woman. We still had dialog with each other via text messaging more or less so I could remind her she needed to pay me for the furniture with which she refused to part ways. 

As I drove into and out of the inlet streets, women, would stop and ask if I was going to propose to some special person at the end of the signs. Some rolled their windows down and yelled supportive things. (Maybe they were yelling cause traffic was starting to back up.)  People in the passing buses waved. People honked their horns while others flashed their lights. Had I done something right," it had seemed, but said, "Sh*t," as the Beverly Hills police and grounds keeping team started to make their way to pull the signs down. I had already circled back to take inventory of my gesture. The stopping and the reading of the signs by a number of romantic and hopeful people had started the morning's traffic congestion sooner and made it worse--it was something I didn't anticipate happening, but it did. Big time. As the men approached the signs, they hesitated half smiling and laughing as the people honked more and yelled to at the men to leave them up, "Some guys gonna propose...you're gonna ruin their story!" Five minutes passed, and then in some kind of radio-orchestrated movement, the signs came down at one time. I had some strange warm sensation come over me as if I had given those passer-byes something to talk about later that day or find something different to do for their significant other or maybe just lament they were missing out. Whatever the case, I was going to celebrate the day with a smile, a drink and strangers in a bar down the street from my place and see what the night would bring.   

The Birds Cafe 8:30 PM. (Later That Night.) 
As we exited the old, famous place, the ladies in their graciousness invited me to join them for a coffee and pastry around the corner at a place called....... As we yapped with each other for a bit, the odd collection of people filled the tables in the place. One of them, sitting just across the way from us attempted to not be caught looking over at me in what seemed disapproval. I made some excuse up to talk to her and express my interest. 

She was a bit nerdy with large eye glasses, likely for the look, a sweater and some jeans. Her conversation with the gentleman sitting next to me was slightly interrupted by my arrival with the two ladies. They were my reason for being there, and my unofficial wing women...even if they didn't know it, where gonna help me meet this gal. The slight game of "not-so-obvious" but yet obvious expression of interest was starting. She had a smile that matched my own with teeth there were brilliantly white and straight (like most TV celebrities do). A word here, and a stare there between us is all it took. The eventual introduction of the ladies to the people in our immediate surroundings was used to get to the gal whose name I was interested in with the big, shinny white teeth seemed to take a lot of time. In all actuality, it took less than fifteen minutes. "Are you free?" came out of my mouth as she turned just before existing. It ended or rather began with her telling me to look her up after my ever so open-ended question. 

"My last name is 'girlfriend' in Spanish. My first name you already correctly spelled. Your turn!" She taunted as she walked out of the place with her friends. When I got back to my place, I Googled her.....last name 'girl friend' in Spanish. 

A week later after a few emails and telephonic invasions, we picked a day and time to rendezvous. "Traffic." I thought as I attempted to switch my demeanor from a crab-ass, potentially-gonna-lose-it to road rager to a more pleasant Katy Perry Teenage Dream one. 7:00 PM was quickly approaching, and I still had another six miles to go (It doesn't sound like much, but in LA traffic distances during rush hour could mean 30 to 45 minutes in travel time.). Yes! Ridiculous. And in that time, I not only had to make a stop by Western and Santa Monica Blvd, I still needed to cut traffic and travel North towards the Birds Cafe block, park, and hopefully breath enough to let the traffic tension go, show up, smile, and see what was gonna happen.

"Ringgg. Ringggg. Ringgggg." Went the line. It was time to call Sarah and inform her I was running late but on my way. She answered after the fourth ring, "Hello."
"Hey, It's Fil. I'm almost there. My last patient was late, and I caught a little of the traffic," I explained with some level of humor in my tone. Most of these 'late arrivals' are an understood fact in LA culture. People half expect you to show up late and a little discombobulated. Or, they plan on you not showing up at all double booking themselves just in case...you don't actually show up or something more industry related or career advantageous presented themselves. This was part of the LA dating scene I was now swimming in.
"No worries. I'll head over to the place now. I didn't want to walk over till I heard from you," she said with a slight laugh.

"Cool. I'll see you shortly," breathing away from the phone. I was nervous; a sensation I wasn't quiet accustomed to feeling when I went out with a gal or anything else for that matter. Most of the time, I knew how the things were going to go. The date was usually a short series of questions with a cocktail that determined in the first few minutes of dialog how much time you had. You could go through the motions of talking and sharing a Caramello....you know--some arbitrary medium you use as an excuse to invite someone out to share with you to determine if you had chemistry, but sometimes the Caramello wasn't needed.  

Arriving at the 'Oaks', "Teeth. Check! Hair. Check! Breath mint...breath mint," riffling through my glove and arm rest compartments, "Awwwe Yeah. Cinnamon flavored Breath Savor. Check!" I think and partially said getting out of my Jeep. There, in the doorway of the place I had met the girl a week before, was a tall, dressed to impress, drink of water named Sarah.

"Glad you made it. I was just telling my coffee friend that I might be spending the rest of the night here having girl talk if you didn't show up," she said with a half smile. She was tall and had left the nerd shades home. Her hair shined in the remaining sunlight, and her teeth nearly lit the pathway to the passenger door. After a little discussion on what to eat, we were off to the Pi on Sunset. It was a hole-in-the-wall hookah lounge late night but a pretty descent Mediterranean restaurant right on Sunset Boulevard just below the Sunset Strip. It was a place that would fill with a mixture of people for dinner. But eventually, mostly local Middle Eastern people filled the place by 9:00 PM. Somehow, its appetizers became part of my original weekly food menu the staff part of my screening team! It's true. I would often use the waiting staff or bar tenders at a few key places to give me an opinion on a gal I was out with--they would either give me a thumbs up, down, or sideways. In the occasion it was a thumbs up, one of the cocktails would magically disappear from the bill! They would often laugh as I entered the place wondering who the gal I was walking in with was, and how they thought the night would turn out.

What did I know about the LA dating scene?! Not much. I had been dating a Minnesota girl most of my time there or had spent a descent amount of time with a co-worker friend that knew Hollywood. Both cases left me unprepared for the all-in-one decision making one would encounter with going out. Most of the particulars I would learn along the way when I did go out with gals, but that night, was a different night as it was really the first 'date' I'd gone on since I'd moved out of my Hollywood home just the month before.

As we sat at a table near the entry of the place over looking Sunset Blvd., we immediately got into...the obvious questions to include, "How did you end up on that television show?" Her answer was unexpected but familiar.
"I was clicking around on Craigslist when I thought I should look through the film/tv/entertainment section. There was a casting call for professional counselors to audition for a "Couple's Therapy" show that was hopefully going to Air," she said toning her voice slightly lower so as to not be heard.
      "Before I knew it. Season two was over," she said smiling as she motioned for the server.
"That's funny. I watched your show not to many months ago. I never actually saw you in it," I said with a little question.
Laughing, Sarah replied grabbing a hand full of her slight auburn, brownish hair, "It's because people like blondes! I have to dye my hair for the show." It was at that moment that the blonde I had seen on the Google pages was actually the woman in front of me only with a different look and hair color.
"Hahaha." I laughed catching the server giving me a side-ways thumb. She was usually critical of the non-ethnic looking girls that came into the place.
"How was it that you came to watch my show?" she said leading up to her very next question, "And if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your throat?" now looking intently at the obvious wound in my neck.

"Hmmm. Let's start with the scar," I said in a soft, even tone of voice that might minimize the impact of what I was about to share with her on both accounts. Of course I could've made something up about the watching the show, but the scar--that required plain honesty.

"Just about a month ago, I had a tumor removed from my neck that was the size of a large lime/small lemon." She raised a glass of water to her mouth taking in the information and then asked, "Was it cancerous?"
"Yes." I said unsure what her reaction would be.
"What kind of treatment or therapy did you need to go through?" she continued to ask with a high level of interest. Short of telling her I flat-lined on the table, I simply explained what I knew was gonna happen in the very immediate future and then transitioned the conversation to when it was I saw her T.V. show.
"I couldn't figure out what the deal was with the girl that was running around virtually nude around the other couples."

Noticing my shift in the conversation, she went on to explain how that couple was really the back-drop to the show's pseudo plot, for which I never saw the season finale.
"Sorry. I didn't know that was an uncomfortable topic to you."
"It's not," I said softly while watching her smiling and pick at the appetizers.
"It's just not the topic most people get into on an initial meet and greet," smiling just enough to show my teeth.

She smiled and continued to put down the hummus and grape leaves. "You went through all of that by yourself," she said with a slightly inquisitive tone while giving me credit for doing it essentially alone bringing her show back into the conversation and the conversation full circle.

Now swallowing my bite of food and knowing we'd end up talking friends but nothing more,"There was a girl in my life when all of this was happening, but we're not together now," I said trying to turn the music off in my head. Titanium had started to play earlier in my head when she asked about the scar.

"Did she stay in Minnesota after your surgery? I mean did she leave you because you had cancer?" She started to ask slightly angering in her tone.

"I'm not really sure what all of the reasons are," completely lying through my shiny white teeth, "But, I hope she's happier with her choice." I said now waving at the server to bring the check. "The air is pleasant, and the night is still young. There might be time to have a lighter conversation with the "counselor" I thought, but I asked, "How do you feel about ice cream or yogurt?" And before I could blink, we were off down the street to Santa Monica Blvd. to hit up the Yogurt Stop. She was entertaining and laughed while attempting to not get noticed by passer-byes. When it was over, I drove her back to her car around the corner from my apartment on Beachwood. The night ended with a hug, kiss on the cheek, and wave.

Driving away from the parking lot, I realized I had a problem. The scar on my neck was a shoe-in conversation starter for the girls while at the same time becoming a date killer when it involved cancer, etc. etc. Worse, I realized that the counselor could detect some of my residual affection for my former, which may not have mattered for some LA girls, but for all intensive purposes, it needed to become invisible till it was gone from me. I determined I would work on this and wear collars to at least camouflage the wound till it was less prominent. 

Trying to drown out the music in my head with the music from my Jeep's stereo proved pointless as the same song played on at least two radio stations. Titanium. "I guess I'll let it play," I thought to myself while attempting to find a place to park finally giving up deciding to drive a bit and get some fresh air. There was something about the tempo of the song that was moving; it connected me with lost emotions and feelings I hadn't really experienced in the last few months of my life. "Stone hard, machine gun. Firing at the ones that run...Shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am Titanium."

Maybe this is what had happened to me. I was numb. I had lost connection with my feelings somewhere between learning I had cancer, discovering my live-in Minnesota girlfriend had started f'n her co-worker, losing one of my primary clients and necessarily most of my income, and in the end having to move...somewhere. One too many things at one time. People usually get by when one major thing happens to them, and maybe they can manage two. But, when you lose everything essentially at the same time, you might have a crisis on your hands. As neither of them had actually drove me over the edge, all of them combined might eventually push me over in one form or another.

This was starting to become apparent to me. As much as I would try and feel something, I couldn't. I didn't feel happy or sad that I knew of. I couldn't find pleasure in most things, but then again, I couldn't find displeasure either. I didn't feel angry, although I knew I was. I couldn't tell if I was remorseful, but my dialog with people I drank coffee with or asked me about my 'just now former life' seemed to indicate it. Really,the only time I came close to experiencing any emotion was when I played music either in my head or on my music player or the radio. Otherwise, I was just thinking. Thinking about a bunch of nothing as the minutes turned to hours, and the hours turning into the sun rising in one instant to it setting the next. In between those to very different directional points of the sun, I was going through the motions...some auto-pilot, others rehearsed, a few newly learned, but all of them empty.

Music has a certain quality about it that actually emotes from within a person any number of feelings and emotions. More importantly, music had the reverse ability of being able to instill into a person any number of feelings or emotions. People in the advertising industry know this to a tee. It's why you only hear upbeat, faster beat music with a steady bass-tempo playing at the mall or shopping boutiques. It's also why you hear it in the gym, or slightly more sensual music in nightclubs or bars.The kind of music played determined to some degree or another the probability that you, the listener is going to respond in a manner or way that is desired by the person putting the play list together. We all know this, intuitively, but we often are too busy to take note of how it's affecting us...the music that's playing. Or the opposite, we know our 'attitude' might change about a situation or a person or an activity if the music is right. So I did what I thought might help me improve my internalization of my recent series of life-changing events--I created a soundtrack; the so called Current Life Soundtracks (LST). 

Where ever it was coming from, I let it play. As often as I found myself in the moment enough, and not caught up by it, I'd Facebook whatever that song for people to get an idea of what I was experiencing or singing along to. Seldom, if ever, would I FB post a slower emotionally charged song as I had cut most of them out of my play list. A lot of the time, the tunes played on repeat to maintain a steady even sensation and mood.  The tunes filled the silence and the white noise L.A. produced while infusing me with a mixture of thoughts and energy, and it's what I needed. 

My scene, as it played out in my head, became programmable. If I want to be in a happy, fun, go-lucky mood, I would find the appropriate song to play. If I the scene called for a more pleasant, "glad you came" type of feeling, I'd play something that more or less fit. All of this I did to avoid feeling melancholy, which was the other reason I'd play the music. I could feel it from time to time creeping up on me, especially if it was too quiet or I was alone for too long. If I needed to have quiet, I would listen to traffic drive by while sitting in my jeep near a busier intersection or the sound of the bushes rustling off the Runyon Canyon trail when it was likely populated with people. It just depended what was easier to get to and where I needed to be the next day. Sure I was playing with my lack of emotional connectivity, but I thought it was better than letting the undertow of my life take me for a ride that I may not survive. Eventually, and not on my cue, it would catch up with me.    

March 24, 2013. Starbucks on Melrose, Los Angeles. 11:00 AM (Approximately.)

Staring at the old-school clogs standing in line from across the room, I worked on my blog. I'd see the clogs now and then but never the person actually wearing them. I could see them moving closer to the cash register where there would be a clear shot of who it was that was wearing them. I continued to work busily as I looked up every few seconds waving off one of the 'regulars' questions on what I was noticing.

"Hold on Ray. You'll see," I said to the gentleman sitting across from me. 
And finally the owner of the clogs appeared from behind the tower of coffee beans on display.
She had long sandy blonde hair that smacked of a hippy from That 70's Show. Belly button high blue jeans, a button down cowboy shirt and a vest was the outfit she wore. When she finally turned, and stood a few feet in front of me. 
"Are those clogs comfortable?" I asked.
It took her a moment to realize I was talking to her.
"Ah, yup." She smiled and said in response.
"They're vintage and super comfortable," she continued to say but then asked, 
"How about your clog-style looking shoes?" Pointing at my Keen's that look exactly like a pair of Croaks but better with much more arch support. 
"They work," I replied slightly laughing. 
"I've had them for eight years now, and they've hardly worn," I replied but then asked, "What do you do around here? I see you in here from time to time. Well, I see your clogs from under the coffee display stand from time to time." 
Laughing, she said something I hadn't heard in a while, 
"I'm a store manager down the street."
"Hahaha. So you're not in the industry!" I laughed back and politely said, "It's usually the other way around. 'I'm an actress....followed by, 'I work as a store assistant manager, etc. etc.'," which you know gets annoying after the 100th time. 
She laughed asking, "You?" 
"I'm not in the industry either. I'm in sales, " I said as Ray chimed in stating, "He's a chiropractor."
She stopped for a moment, and then dismissed herself as she was running late. 
"See you around?" She turned and said as she made her way out.

"Why did you tell her that?!" I asked Ray slightly confused as to why he would interject.
He replied, "Cause you're still in it! You can't see what I see about you and your story writing, but I see it. Its eating you up, and you need to plug in somewhere or unplug that thing. You need to get back into it. You know, 'keep on, keeping on.'" This made sense to me coming from Ray, a nearly retired and homeless, old-school black actor. He had seen all sides of the industry and real life. I shook my head in agreement and laughed pointing out the scenery.

Watching the fashion parade go by the counter was amusing. Girls with too short of shorts and really long boots and flashy purses was distracting. Not to mention the guys in the overly tight pants with what could've only been a sock stuffed in their pants. Ray agreed with me. The Sunday morning regulars chatted about their issues with which ever film director they had just gone to an 'audition' for earlier that day or week only to get that classic line, "We'll call you back." People waited for the call back. Some actually would get it, the call, and the look of euphoria oozed out of them. They'd been saved, for a while, at any rate from approaching eviction or actually having to get a regular job. 

The community at large were involved in a perpetual state of "industry" related activity in some form or another. They lived from one 'gig' to the next having learned to wait, conserve, audition, and wait some more as their live-force nearly would leave them. They hung out with themselves nearly exclusively and were quick to pass you by if you had no 'connections.' It was seemingly the first part of any introduction between people. "Hi, my name is X,Y,Z. What's your story? Are you in?" And so on and so forth went the interviewing. Yeah. Interviewing.

Most people mentioned that'd moved to L.A. to be in the industry were from the Midwest or out East. Others were from other parts of California or from the area. The locals versus the transplants were usually much more down to earth and reasonable in conversation. But everyone else that had bought into the fake it till you make it mentality were hoping to get swept up by some magical wagon into stardom and make it, and if you weren't going the same direction--get out of the way! Those people, largely female, would often state they were an actress or an actor working on a project. Working. Always working.  This was maybe true ninety percent of the time. The more realistic people would tell you they had a job somewhere doing something that helped them get by between gigs. They were actually fun to talk with cause their conversations seemed more about real life and not some outrageous party at some celeb's house in the Hills. The locals or non-industry people talked about where to get the best deals on clothes, food, and where the 'free' entertainment was and when. The angles of Los Angeles were all around watching it seemed. Albeit, most of them were lost, but even lost people were still kind and happy to just talk and end the silence they were experiencing in the midst of all the noise in the world over coffee or a bite to eat giving the phrase starving artists a different meaning.

Me, I just sat and watch the parade go by while I plugged away on my blog. People asked if I was in the industry, and I'd tell them I was a chiropractor in the area. I wasn't in the industry. I was me just trying to get by from day to day in my new second life. It wasn't until people asked me where I practiced at so they could come by and see me did I understand the gravity of my job and its placement. 

"He's a chiropractor!" Ray said to the That 70's Show looking assistant manager with the clogs and cowgirl button down shirt.
She said, "Where at?" "In Century City at the Spa and Fitness Gym across from the West Field Mall on Constellation," I replied giving Ray a soft but firm look for putting the information out there. 
"Oh." Is what came out of her mouth as she looked at me intently for a second or two. 
"That's very nice. You must be really good at what you do to work there, " she continued to say taking a step closer to me. 
"What's your name?" I said softly looking up at her from my seat. I was at a disadvantage having my PC on my lap and cords coming through the arm rest. 
She opened her mouth to say, "Kori," as woman behind her managed to drop her coffee and have it splatter everywhere nearly spraying us. 
"Nice to finally meet the clog owner. My name is Fil. I spell it with an F...F.I.l." I said attempting to annunciate the letters. She reached out to shake my hand but then pulled it back and grabbed her phone that started ringing. She smiled as she started to walk away and mentioned she see me around. I guess she would.

I was a chiropractor inside the most exclusive spa and fitness clubs in Beverly Hills and the country for that matter second only to the New York flagship. Avenue of the Stars was the road I drove to off of Santa Monica Boulevard. I didn't know any of the above information mattered to people until that day that Ray announced it to the girl with the clog shoes. People at my work placed mentioned it to me, but it always sounded a little too much Hollywoodish in nature. It was all the same to me--a job. I was providing service to the people that came into the place to see me. I didn't pay much attention to "industry" talk or watch the 'tube'. So when TV celebrities would show up, I was clueless. 

It was all the same to me anyway. They were people with a problem chiropractic may be able to help them out with regardless if they were an A-Lister, ran some intricate part of CBS or were part of the Bain And Company, played basket ball or where in a famous band.  I approached everyone with the same level of attention and care across the board. Where I worked only had significance to the 'industry' people. When it came up in conversation, the same look of excitement came over them that did when they got the so called 'call'. It was a little disconcerting. So I'd leave it out of my conversation when I could or tell them I did something else when I was out singing karaoke. My favorite two jobs I told people I did was sell cigarette lighters to gas stations and drove a UPS truck and delivered packages; they seemed more believable and seemed to give me more genuine reactions from people versus that, 'Holy Sh*t' reaction I'd usually get.  

People imagined that I partied with the stars, hit night clubs, dated playboy models and never slept. I could understand why people believed that considering my clientele, my name, and my role. What I failed to see is how people missed a very obvious fact--I drove a Jeep. I guess being somewhere among the high-end vehicles waiting for my valet ticket on work days might have lead to the beginning  of a mystery. My three day-a-week schedule only validated it. I had an ever growing mystery; it was something I never talked about and didn't show off. But, whatever it was, it must've been larger than life allowing "me" the ability to walk into most places with ease, walk up to really anyone and strike up a conversation that would eventually lead to an invitation somewhere. Not to mention my smile. The more quiet I was about my life and what I did when I wasn't in the office, the more interesting it seemed to some people. When people think you have it, wealth, you get invitations to events, parties, etc for everything with the occasional hand-shake--something I was a seasoned expert at giving from my days of being a nightlife lord--or just free. People wanted to know where it was coming from, and the easiest way to do it was invite me out to their event, club, or home party. Most of these invitations I would politely decline saying I already had plans. But every now and then, I would make the scene. 

24 Hour Fitness, West Hollywood. (A Few Hours Later.) 
"Heya!" sounded off the receptionist waving me into the gym. I could never remember his name, but he spoke Spanish, and it made for funny, and at times, odd conversations while people attempted to figure out what we were saying.
"Hola, amigo! Como Estas?!" I said back typing in my membership number waiting for the screen to flicker green for, "Good."
"You look like you're loosing weight. How much have you lost?" He said pointing at my face while touching his own cheek.
"Hmmm. I'm not sure. Hopefully I just thinning in the face and actually up on the scale." I replied managing to get my number typed in and finger on the bio-scanner.
"Whatever! You keep looking more and more strong. I can't even see your scar unless I really look for it."
"I guess so," I'd reply in Spanish smiling and turning to make my way to the locker room. This was my normal conversation with the front desk guys. The gym was where I was most days I wasn't at work. It was a no-brainer. 

Entering the locker area, a tall and familiar man stood in front of me. As he moved his long, blond rock star, shoulder length hair aside, he looked up and smiled noticing me. 
"Fil. F.I.L. as you normally spell it out! How the hell are you? Saying in a warm and inviting voice. It was Sparkle J, my former celebrity roommate and Nelson Twin look-a-like. 
"What's up J.?" I said back while giving him a half hug.
"Michael moved back to WeHo! It's been so good having him back. How about you and Fae? How are you guys doing?" 
"We're not. We're not doing anything at all. Although we do see each other from time to time driving on our ways to work on Santa Monica," I said laughing at the fact it had happened from time to time.
"Hmm. I have to confess. I read about your surgery, and how all of that mess turned out. Where are you living?" He'd asked with an inquisitive tone in his voice.
"In the Hills," I said followed by, "Till next week at any rate. My temporary lease is over, and I'm not sure if I'm going to renew there or find somewhere with parking. The parking deal, or the lack thereof, is killing me."
"You're kidding!?" He said grabbing his phone. 
"Michael and I are looking for people or a person to take over the bottom part of the condo. I'd give you a really good deal if you were interested."
"That's funny! I'll let ya know where I'm at in a week," I said throwing my gear in the locker getting ready to walk out and get started.  And with a wave, I was off to hit the gym floor. 
         
A Sunday afternoon was likely the best day to hit the 24 Hour gym. Most of it's clientele were gay men meaning that the gym might be less full if they went out the night before. But, usually, the place was packed with stone-cut men and finely carved women that all must've been in the 300 movie or waiting to be in its sequel. It was a little intimidating but motivating at the same time to work harder and differently than I was accustomed. Sure, a lot of them were on the juice, but most of them had achieved their physiques with steady changing work out patterns over months. It was here, in the middle of Sparta that I worked away on my own body and mind reaching for the future while letting the past go. I had until I ran into my former TV Celeb roomy Spark J in the locker room. Memories of the Rhinestone sleigh bed came to mind and all the life I had lived in West Hollywood before I moved in with the Nurse from Minnesota. As I switched the music on my player to The Scissor Sister's I Don't Feel Like Dancin and started my warm up. Within a few moments, my mind was clear, and my day was now full of tasks to achieve considering my the end of my short-term lease and the now open highway of my life's future options at that point in time. 

As I put my plan for the day together that would eventually lead up to the drive to Santa Monica for a night of karaoke singing and fun, a memory of a young girl turning in her airplane seat handing me her bottle of perfume came into mind. It was one of dozens of flights I had taken into and out of Europe in my younger years. The smell was so distinct that whenever I smelled it, I would instantly be brought back to that flight. The girl didn't speak French or English and turned to show me cluster of grapes shaped bottle to answer my question on what the name of the scent was. Realizing it, that I was thinking of the scent, I looked around the room of cardio machines attempting to determine whom might be wearing it bringing the scenes from the past had to mind. I only knew one other person that wore it, and it was likely she was not going to be walking around this gym or any most people could get into. 
         Clearing the room with a glance and moving to the next level of the gym to finish up the day's work-out, I texted my former roomy asking what his 'good deal' entailed for a typical three month lease he mentioned. I was hoping to eliminate some of the driving to and from the Hills and be closer to work potentially saving me a extra hour and a half drive for a distance of only five miles and countless dollars of fuel. More importantly, I'd have an off-street parking spot that had it's weight in gold considering. I imagined I could start where I had left off before the nurse had come into my reality and potentially forget the whole thing had even happened. Maybe. Just maybe get back into the single-life lifestyle I had gladly given up. It wasn't that I was lonely. I just wanted more than the occasional dating partner and perpetual revolving door experience. I had given that life up and became a chiropractor so I could have a "normal" life with a wife and maybe a family. Dating a girl from the Home Land only seemed to make sense considering I was hoping to live there part of the year (the warmer part..) and the rest of it somewhere else. 

An hour later, I walked down the street towards the protein shop I usually hit after my work-outs. It was my regular anything like Starbucks. The shakes were good, the staff usually had a great story about being on the verge of losing their jobs over some management-related crisis, and more importantly, the scenery was great. Sitting at the counter or just outside on the boulevard was great people watching. Most of the time, I'd just sit and listen to the guys chit-chat about whatever party they went to the night before or the guy or girl they managed to finally get out for a date that either ended really poorly or all to quickly. And then it happened. Out from the parking garage came a midnight blue Moserati attempting to navigate the sidewalk traffic and the never ending boulevard parade of cars. Just as the car pulled into the lane, it started to slow to an eventual stop in front of me. 

As the passenger side window rolled down, the hip-hop music blaring from from the car became more annoying. I looked down trying not to notice, but eventually the driver yelled out at me,
"Hey! Dr. Fil 'Thunder' Troy. It's me!" The driver said with a little more enthusiasm as the traffic began to pile up behind her.
Pretending to be very nonchalant and casual, I said, "Heya. What brings you down from the House?"
"I was picking up some girl stuff, and a shake. I must have missed you sitting there."
"I guess so," I said with a smile and a slight hint of welcome. 
"Where did you disappear to last night?" She asked now putting her hazard lights on to signal traffic to go around.
"I got hungry, and decided to go find some tacos," which was actually a very believable thing to most people in L.A but not what really took place.
"Tacos?!" She said with some level of agitation while laughing at the same time. "You left for tacos... Hahahaha!" 
"Well...yeah. A man has gotta eat his share of protein," I said still smiling and wondering what to say next.
"I suppose I'll see you at the pool this week?" I asked attempting to get an understanding of what happened the rest of the night after I left.
She didn't answer my question, but she did proceed to say, "I had a real good time with you last night. When I thought to look for where you had disappeared, I didn't realized how much time had gone by and eventually the sun started to come up. What time did you leave? How did you even get out there without being noticed?"
"Hahahaha." I laughed saying, "I wasn't always a doctor." To which she replied, "I could tell!" Laughing but now in need of moving as traffic control had just pulled behind her. 
"I guess I'll see you later this week?" I said with a slight touch of question but no expectation.  "I hope so," as she pulled her sunglasses down giving me the rock star sign pulling away. "I guess that's Alex," I thought while turning to resume my seat outside the protein shake shop noticing the guys all glued to the window all with looks of amusement and a couple of  'shame, shame' looks confirming I still liked women and wasn't converting over to the 'boys' club anytime soon. 

Loews Hollywood Hotel, Hollywood.  11:30 PM  (The night before.)

Attempting to get my hair ready with it's ever-growing length was more difficult than imagined when I actually had to care about what it looked like, and that was only when I was either going to work at the Spa after a morning work-out or the occasional outing with someone for a drink. I admit I was nervous about it for not so obvious reasons, but I needed to do something other than work, come home, eat, and pass out on my bed night after night. I needed to start living again..a little at any rate, and tonight was one of the nights I actually had energy to do it. Alex had been more than interested in what I actually did with my time outside of my job. She was one of the pool people I see from time to time waiting for a yoga class or waiting to get a massage. A girl of leisure as it seemed that was graced with Hollywood money from some undisclosed place decided it was time to take a step into the unknown the day before by asking me out.

"What are you gonna do this weekend? I know you sing karaoke in Santa Monica  on Sundays, but what do you do Friday or Saturday nights? You know.... the nights when most people go out," she said handing me a folded piece of paper waiting for our cars to come up from valet.
"This is my number. I know you can't ask me for it cause of the 'Spa' rules, but I know giving it to you isn't a problem, " she said with a look of wonder.
"What makes you think I wouldn't ask?" I said with some level of humility with a dab of confidence.
She smiled handing the valet a number of dollars for her ride. "It's a feeling I got the other day from you. That's all. You're all business in the Spa."  
"You're right. I wouldn't have asked," I said slightly attempting to discourage the transaction, "But now that you stepped out, I call you and join you for a drink? 
"I hope so. LA guys are too aggressive," she said with some level of disdain clearly not noticing how she was put together. 
"What makes you think I'm any better?" I said closing her door. 
"That right there. Closing my door." You're from the Heartland where most men have some manners. Most. And, I guess I'm curious."
"It's true. I'm a Northlander. Hahaha!"
"I'll pick you up at your place....text me the address," she said as she pulled away. The valet guy said to me in English and a thick Nigerian accent, "You're in luck tonight..Eh, Doc?!" I laughed as my ride pulled up turning to him saying, "I'll let you know Monday," flicking on my stereo and turning up one of my favorite tracks to pull up to work playing, Magic Man by Heart.
          
As I arrived at the address, I texted Alex and parked. I stared over at the spot that was once my own actual parking spot at the Jefferson. I usually parked there when I went out on Hollywood Boulevard or visiting friends from time to time. Knowing Alex would be arriving shortly, I made my way to the East side of the building on McCadin. I had no idea where we were going or necessarily how dressed up or down to be. The air was cool enough that I wore a black leather bomber with a thin button down shirt and a pair of custom cut designer jeans--they were the first pieces of actually 'nice' things I had purchased for myself as a personal achievement reward back in the day. Whatever the occasion, they usually fit the bill. All I had to do was be calm, and stay in the moment.  
          
At least that's what I told myself when she pulled up. Her car's engine purred as she stopped and jumped out. 
"You're here!?" She said while unlocking the passenger door. 
"I am tonight," I said laughing making it a non-issue in the short-term. As we drove, I noticed my mind had started to slip back to a seat on a jet-liner head for New York City in 1997 from Paris, France where a little girl's perfume had grabbed my nose's attention. 
"Are you wearing Lolita Lempicka?" I asked instantly inhaling her scent.
"What? How did you know that?! It's not that common a scent!" She said half laughing leading to my telling her of the airplane incident.

"So you are not only a connoisseur of shoes, and purses, but you know French perfumes as well. I wouldn't have gathered that by our conversations. As you don't work at a boutique store, you're either gay or something else." 
"What? Like Bi?" Laughing out loud at her vocal tone.
"Well, you have to admit you do have a little bit of talk about you from the girls at the Spa.
"Oh. What do they say? I asked smoothly in an even toned voice.
"In case you didn't know already, it is said that you are a wild one, and if I took you home it'd be a home run."
"Wait a minute. Are you quoting me some Flo Rida?" 
"Kinda," she said slowing the car for the valet at the hotel while turning to look at me intently. 
"Is it true?" She asked. "Are you a wild one?" 
Now reading the over motioning of her mouth and distinct body language, I said, "Maybe," while keeping my upper lip slightly stiff. As she moved over to kiss me, the doors opened and the valet men greeted us, "Good evening, Sir and Ms."
        
She looked at me in a manner that read I'd be likely having to follow up with her initiation of that nearly planted kiss. "Maybe." I thought as I asked, "What floor is this lounge we're going to located?

"It's a party with a famous DJ spinning at it," she mentioned immediately confirming my original thought about the night, I was likely over dressed in the jacket. 
            
Alex was tall and finely carved on a normal day, and now with four inch heels, she was a tower of strength putting her just above 6'1" in height. Her long brunet hair rolled down just past her shoulders and had glitter for effect. With a slightly olive skin tone and green eyes and a tightly clad mid-thigh dress, she was a definite show stopper...a well manicured one. 

As we entered the penthouse room, my ears were bombarded by music while my nose filled with the rich smell of California medical marijuana. Yup. It was a scene with a view of the City. Before I could even look for a cocktail server, a bourbon and seven was being placed into my hand and a toast was being made between me and a group of people Alex new from the LA scene. As we made our way around the room and greeted people she knew, people that I had seen in various places around the city nightclub scene were there. A random celeb here and there that I couldn't make out as it continued to be my habit to not watch the tube. A couple of hours and cocktails had passed since we walked into the place, and it was starting to get a little too much.

Now standing in the window looking out onto the Jefferson, I could see a light on in the kitchen, and the patio door was open. A shadow sat in the patio bench  I used to sit on when enjoying people watching with a pair of binoculars Fae had purchased for that very reason--to see who was doing what at the hotel. At first, I checked my watch to see the time now just past 1:30 AM. Then, I counted two balconies over from the bend in the upper floor of the building making sure I hadn't miscounted, but I knew I hadn't. Someone was sitting on the bench at what used to be my shared apartment, and it could only be one of three people--the dog, the girl, or my replacement. It didn't matter, as the last thing I remember doing was touching the glass with my index finger attempting to reach out the person sitting on the bench in the shadow. Before I knew it I had begun to breathe quickly while a feeling of anger mixed with sorrow overcame me. A tear had already made its way down my jacket and unto the floor. I only knew this because someone had pointed it out to me just after I came back into my surroundings some number of minutes later. 

"Hey. Hello. Are you there? Did you take something? Or is it snowing in LA?" Alex said to me bringing me back into the moment.
"Wow." Someone's got something on in this place that's giving me a pseudo-allergic reaction. 
"Yeah. Your eyes are all red. Whatever it is can't be down the hallway, so let's go over there and get some fresh air." 
"Good idea. You lead, and I'll follow," I said so I could get my barrings on the place and gauge how much time I had checked out by the window.
"I thought you had left with the guys you were drinking within the other room. Where do you know them from?" I asked.
"They're a few of the Network people, and they seemed to know you pretty well," she said with more curiosity.
"I know them from the "Spa". We chit chat about crap all the time when we're shaving or on the cardio machines. They were as surprised to see me as I was them," I said putting my hand on her waist as we entered into the other side of the Penthouse which was much tamer and laid back and a nearly uncomfortable amount of privacy. 

Now grabbing a water while Alex grabbed a soda, we sat and talked like people do when they haven't seen someone in a while and needed to catch up with things. She told me about her life and her pass-times, and I told her of the various places I had been in the area trying to figure out where the best trails and hikes were located. As we continued the conversation, a few of her girlfriends came into the room. One of them knew me from somewhere it seemed, and the other swore she had coffee with me at Starbucks the week before. Maybe it was true. Women in their day clothes look much different in their night closes, which is really a matter of which part of their skin they're trying to show off. She dismissed herself to go to the ladies room to "freshen up," I decided it was time to leave. I sent her a text that said, "I'm running down the way to grab a taco. I'll be right back." I needed to leave before I would check out again. It wasn't from the very few cocktails, it was the energy problem I would struggle with day in and day out. I needed to take a serious nap. Somewhere for a good 20 or 30 minutes, and then I'd be fine. All I needed to do was find a quiet place that was secure.  So, I thought.

Dropping the seat in my jeep back, I locked the door and turned on the radio on to classical music. Within a few seconds it seemed, I was out, and there was no telling when I'd wake again if I didn't set an alarm. Out. 
      
As I drifted into the recesses of my mind, I dreamt I got out of my Jeep rejuvenated from the 27 minutes of sleeping bliss and classical music. Like the days I had come home in the past, I made my way to the elevator taking it to the top floor attempting to ignore the mob of people getting into and out of it while conversing with a couple of girls that knew me. Questions of why they hadn't seen me by the pool or walking the dog, and the person they had seen with my former significant other came into play. 

They were questions that I could only answer as a matter of fact on how relationships went and how my life had always been more of a facilitating role for other people getting close to their life's purpose. I continued the dialog with the gals making it to their apartment facing the hotel from a slightly different side of the building where I could see the party I had just left. In the window, I could see where I stood to look at the building raising my index finger into the window while I had faced East...the direction of the Home Land and where I had once lived. "All things are one," I said to one of the gals now standing immediately next to me looking for what I was focusing on through the window. Pointing out the party happening at the top of the hotel, she grabbed my hand as if to pull me away from the window. She kissed me without warning stating I needed to let the past go and enjoy my freedom. I left some time later leaving her on the sofa and returned to the party across the street and later returning to my jeep.
      Waking up from the dream, I checked my watch only to realize I had forgotten to set the alarm on the phone as well as the number of text messages from Alex and a couple of other people. The sun was starting to light the streets, and it was time to leave. As usual, I couldn't believe how much time I was out. It was starting to improve but overall was still somewhat abnormally long. What should've been a 20-30 minute nap turned into a three to four-hour ordeal bringing me to dawn and virtually watching the sunrise from the East. It wouldn't take long for me to drive into the Hills, park at that time of the day, grab my hiking and gym gear, and make it out the door to Runyon Canyon and then to Starbucks by 8:30 AM. It was Sunday after all, and the Sunday ritual was about to begin. 
        
After the rise to the top of Runyon, now looking at the Hotel from the other side, I smiled slightly at what was seemingly a good night of fun, making connections while dispelling a few notions and promoting others about myself. The elation from the outing or the fact that I had just made the climb up the canyon, started the music in my head, "Hay Algo Que Me Gusta De Ti." It made the descent smooth and powerful nearly lulling me into second trip up. Instead, the climb's energy would go into the morning's conversation with my mentor and story writing in the hours that followed at the Starbucks on Melrose. 

May 3, 2013,  The "Spa and Fitness" Club, Century City/Beverly Hills. 

There is the general belief that we all have a purpose for our lives; it usually comes in the form of a question, "What is the meaning of life?" Or, "What is the meaning of my life?" It is a question we all answer differently and in our own way. The majority of people accept what they know or see around them finding happiness and a sense of community in how they live. There are few that go outside of the norm and learn otherwise. The author Paulo Coelho calls this pursuit of finding out what a person's 'meaning' is a personal calling. Depending on your religious belief, your personal calling is what God had intended for you to do--the part you play in His plan. Paulo says we know we are living out that calling, our personal legend, when we find that we are filled with enthusiasm when we do things that are apart of the plan.  Not all people know this or determine to find out what their calling is. Coelho proposes there are four basic reasons why so few live out their callings and realize their personal legend. 

         
The first is that we are, from the very day we are born onward, told everything we want to do is impossible or for other people. We grow up with this notion, and as time rolls forward and the layers of guilt, fear, and prejudice build up in our being. Our personal calling and legend become buried deep in our soul, but it remains in us a constant reminder that maybe, just maybe we should have attempted to figure it out. 

         
If we come come to delineate our legend, we find a second and more powerful obstacle that Coelho calls love. We know what we want to do but are afraid of hurting the ones we love by abandoning all that we know in order to pursue it--our calling. We fail to see that love is really an impetus and not something that is in place to prevent us from going forward. Those that genuinely want us to be happy and love us are willing and ready to accompany us on our journey win or lose. 

        
Finding out that love is a motivating strength, people who pursue their calling find a third obstacle to overcome--the fear of failing. The people who pursue their personal legend find defeats and failure much more devastating because we can't fall back on the notion that, "I didn't want it anyways." We do want it. We want it so badly that we staked everything to achieve it, and we suffer far more when we don't. The path is no more easy than any other except that our whole heart is into it. We grow and learn to have patience knowing that the Almighty is conspiring to help us achieve it even if it is not obvious to us when we experience defeats. So we experience defeat. It happens because we lack experience in the big game of life. We need nurture a steady determination that we will keep on keeping on.The secret to life is to fall seven times but to get up eight.  

      
We know in the quietness of our hearts that we are proving ourselves worthy of the miracle of life by going forward. When we overcome our defeats, which we always do, a greater sense of euphoria fills us and confidence exudes from our being. Every day and hour is part of our fight--the good fight. Our life becomes more enthusiastic and filled with pleasure in the things we do.

       
However, the opposite is true. We can ignore our calling and let the years and layers build up around it and bury it deep in us. And as it continues in our person reminding us that we are not living out the true meaning of our existence, we become bitter never being able to free ourselves from it robbing us of joy and peace and ultimately resentment towards those that try. 

       
But for those who stand long and realize that they are called, finding love as an impetus and having grown strong from our rising up from defeats, the fourth and most elusive obstacle awaits our arrival. We know we're close to the end of our journey. We can sense that we may be arriving at our lives' purpose after all the years of pursuing it and it's just around the corner, but we fail.  

         
Most normal people are filled with guilt at the mere possibility that what we want is there in front of us. We look around us to see all those people we struggled with not getting what they wanted, and we feel we don't deserve to what we want either. We forget all the sacrifice and suffering we experienced. We forget all that we have endured to get this far. People get to this point and defeat themselves by making a series of mistakes based on the notion that renouncing joy and conquest of our obstacles is a more saintly choice losing their dream in the process. This is the last and most dangerous obstacle we face as people pursuing our calling...your personal legend. "But, if you believe yourself worthy of the thing you fought so hard to get, than you become an instrument of God, ...you understand why you are here," says Paulo Coelho. Achieving it--your personal legend--feeds others' will to do the same.  

The day was already looking good. The sun was out. The day's scheduled patients were coming in earlier making an escape from the facility closer to 5:00 versus the usual 7:30 or 8:00 PM departure. I was strangely energized from the Starbucks coffee I sipped on while attempting to consume a cup of Greek yogurt and a banana. The Black Eyed Peas' Scream and Shout played on my headphones putting a little spring in my step. This was something one of the assistant managers of the Spa noticed instantly annoying him as I walked by the service desk toward the gym. 
          
Stopping by the office to leave my computer back was my first stop at the place to making walk to the locker room easier, but also giving me a chance to turn the office equipment on and ready to go for the day's first patient. The assistant manager usually fussed when he couldn't get people to do what he wanted or play into his employee game. The people or employees he didn't like would get the silent treatment so as to necessitate them 'kissing up' to him for recognition and eventual acceptance by the other team members at the desk. Not getting the thumbs up by the team meant your job expectancy was going to be short lived as reviews were, by and large, subjective in nature as was the disciplinary. If you didn't make it to work on time if you were 'in' the assistant manager just changed the schedule for you so you were on time. But if you were not playing along with his game, you were instantly written up and put on the chopping block. Corporate management experience would've had the whole lot of them fired at once, but that's not what I did there. 
           
Fortunately for them, I was the facility chiropractor, and I was not subject to lower management cloak and dagger games. My responsibility was to the patients, the chiropractic group to which I belonged, and upper management personnel. Knowing this, I kept quiet and a watchful distance as the team would attempt to play 'uncomfortable' around me knowing I could care less who was in or out.  My personal life, in general, I kept private so as to keep any 'chatter' to a minimum and really a guess on their part about who I was or what I did outside of the place. All that said, I did enjoy working around the spa with a big choppy smile and a bigger than life attitude, which confused the few people who did know what I had experienced the turn of the year. For what the job was, it was a place that gave me some regularity and purpose through what was a multiple-faceted life change.  
             
Getting into the gym later that morning, I looked around to see what was free to use. One of the attendants greeted me with a towel. As usual, I said, "Si Se Puede!" It created a stir at times with the attending personnel, housekeeping, the valet team, and maintenance crews, which were all Hispanic of one sort or another. Being able to speak Spanish like a native was useful and it allowed me to connect with most Spanish speaking people and to their surprise was my mastery of the language. It seemed few people talked to the help considering the facility and much less in Spanish. 

Like them, I had spent a number of my early years cleaning up after other more privileged people making connecting with the help easy. It served as a daily reminder of how far I had come. I was not part of the so-called elite; I came out of the same socio-economic class as the help did. When they discovered this, it gave some of them hope while others wonder if things could change for them. And, although I would never tell them, I was struggling even if I had been to the proverbial mountaintop. It was the secret that I kept so as to not dent their hope or close out any future opportunistic job offers with the people that did pay to use the gym.  
       
The gym was often packed in the AM from all the corporate clients getting in and out before the 9:00 O'clock hour. It didn't matter where I started as long as I could warm-up, stretch and have enough time to walk up the stairs on-time to meet my first patient for the day. It was in these early morning workouts that I would recruit new patients, chat with random celebs, and periodically relate with the regular gym goers of which one was a Spiritual Life counselor I discovered in the moments that followed. We had exchanged glances with each other periodically when finally she walked up to me. 

"Hey," she said pulling her long blonde hair back from her face revealing her sky blue colored eyes.
"Hello. I see your trainer has worked you into a sweaty mess," I said half laughing and attempting to not stare. She was a slightly more mature woman that trained herself into a strong, athletic knock-out that had a natural looking beauty about her with a little cosmetic help. She raised her face up to look up at me saying...  
"Yes. My trainer has that effect on me!"
"Noticed!" I said watching her step closer to me followed by, "How often do you train?"
"Four or five days a week depending on my schedule."
"That's cool. What's your industry?" I said softly attempting to not offend her if she was a Celeb cause I didn't know one way or the other. Asking a person's industry seemed a polite way to let them know you weren't sure.
"I'm a Spiritual Life counselor," she said while placing herself within an arm's distance from me.
"And you?" She said politely apparently unsure of my role in the place. "I asked my trainer who you were the other day, and I couldn't figure out what you really do."
"Chiropractor?" I said with a questioning tone. "You're not sure I'm the chiropractor? Hahaha." "Well yes. You have so much happening around you. I always took chiropractors to be a little more mundane and out of shape. And considering, I wasn't sure that's all you do." She got even closer to me, within an arm's reach, as if to palpate my energy field or smell my deodorant. 

"Spiritual Counselor sounds interesting. I'd like to know a little more about what it is that you do. I clearly use my hands on people, and they either feel relief or they don't, but you're doing something very different it seems."
"Well, we do the same thing. We heal people or help them understand how they can heal themselves," she said now looking into my eyes intently. "Perhaps you'd like to have tea with me and talk a little bit more about what I do or experience it for yourself?" She half asked and implied that I should. 
"Sure. I can do that. When is good for you?" I said asking a straight yet open-ended question. 
"Let me check my calendar, and I'll let you know when I see you next, which is....?"  
"Monday!" I said with a smile turning away to take the remaining time to warm up on an elliptical.

As I watched the news, the list of To-Do's for the day came to mind forcing me to pull out my Blackberry for a more accurate account and giving me a chance to switch my music player's track to something more energizing. Morning workouts are a necessary part of my workday helping me get physically and mentally ready to work on patients while helping my energy level stabilize. This was, at times, a feat and would necessitate a Noon hour work-out, which acted as a form of free advertisement for the clinic. In either case, the shower and grapefruit smelling organic soaps kept me refreshed and sharp for the workday and any immediate after work events. 
           
Later that day while I sat on a bench taking in some of the afternoon sun, I crunched away at an apple and a few veggies. My thoughts drifted as they always had about other times in my life and my particularities when it came to fashion, beauty, and culture. It was hard not to considering I was on Avenue of the Stars watching the parade of corporate people walk by seasoned with a few housewives doing their mid-day shopping. The surroundings were so much more diverse than other places but still all, more or less, the same when it came to what was "in" or what was "out" in the fashion circles. The seasons, if you could say there are seasons, brought different colors. Some were bright and others distinct like the new fad of brightly colored shoe soles. Orange, green, yellow, and blue where the new "black" as people would say as much as being "40" was really the new "20" when it came to age. So it was 'O.K.' to be a 50-something and date an actual 20-something because of perspective. I often wondered why any 20-anything would end up with a senior citizen only to have a Bentley convertible stop in front of me to ask for directions to the Mall just to my right.

"Hey. Where is the Westfield valet entrance?" A girl asked from the passenger seat slightly turning down the radio while attempting to not fall out (her chest) of her virtually see-through summer dress. 
      
"Nice ride," I said while lowering my sunglasses to hear the driver say, "Thanks." I wondered which "ride" he thought I was making reference to as he placed his hand in a non-fatherly manner on the girl's shoulder essentially answering the dialog I was having with myself in the moments preceding their stop. I politely pointed to the valet entrances were upcoming down the block. 
      
"Wait!" The girl said to the father-figure driving the car looking at me again. "Thanks. You look familiar. Have I seen you before?"
"Maybe there," I said with a slightly questioning tone and a bright smile pulling my shades back up. "I'm the chiropractor in there," pointing to the entrance to the "Spa and Fitness" club across the street. Whether it answered her question or not, the driver started to pull away instantly leading to a slight disagreement between them that could be heard as they stopped at the valet. 
       
"I guess that's how 50-somethings end up with 20-somethings," I thought to myself while laughing that Al Pachino's Scarface character's plan at getting women. "First. You get the money. Then, you get the power. Then, you get the woman. That's why you gotta make your moves," I said laughing getting ready to stroll through the mall a bit and see what movies were playing. "Cheap entertainment," I thought. Okay, it wasn't that cheap at $17 a ticket for any evening show, but it was safe, didn't require me to go with anyone, and it could be hours of entertainment before and after the actual show versus meeting up with a random date that likely expected you to pay for their drink, dinner, and taxi ride home only to never hear from them again (So I was told and then experienced.).
       '
As I rode the escalator up toward the cinema, I heard a voice call my name from behind me. I turned thinking, "Satan?!" But only smiled as the girl from the Bentley climbed the escalator to catch up to me. 
"Did your 'dad' go find something to do?" I said jokingly with just a touch of sarcasm for good measure.
"He's not my father. He's a friend!" She retorted back to me also laughing at the obvious non-verbal verbalized part of the previous encounter of the two on the road. 
"I saw you walk by the store downstairs, and I remembered where I know you from." She said as if she had just figured the killer in a mystery book series. 
"You are friends with my girlfriend that lives at the Jefferson!" She said in a manner that was hoping for an affirmation of her or the event. I stopped and turned toward her attempting to seem like I did remember the occasion, but it wasn't registering. 
"We rode up the elevator together, and you had just come from a party across the street. We partied a little at her place." The scene she was described sounded familiar but still didn't come to mind. 
"I'm Val, and you're clearly Dr. Fil Sebastian Troy!" She laughed pointing out the platinum embroidering on my black scrubs. 
"You are him. You are the "Get Adjusted To The Good Life Guy!" She now said with some level of excitement followed by an immediate flashing of the 'rock star sign' to me. 
"You were so funny that night, and then you magically disappeared."
         
Asking her to join me for a moment while I checked out show times and tried to remember what she was talking about, I flicked through my text messages not just about a month before from my outing with Alex. Why the girl followed me up to the theater was still not obvious to me, but it was becoming more clear to me that she may have some answers I wanted about the event. It started to make sense to me.
   
"What are you doing this weekend? I mean you already have company..." attempting to make light of her ride to the place earlier.
"Yeah, well..." she stumbled attempting to find the right words. 
"Perhaps you can join me for tea and tell me a little bit about yourself," I said attempting to stay in professional mode and not let on that I still didn't know who she was or the fact that I didn't remember the two of them from a month prior while giving her an out from my question. 
     
"Here's my number. If you free up, buzz me." She said as I looked at my watch indicating it was time to go. I took it, and she went her way only after telling me, "Really, use my number and call me." I thought if I did buzz her, I could get some answers about that night as it started to come to mind along with Alex my date for it...well most of it. "Maybe.." I thought quickly coming into some new game-changing information that I needed to act on to figure out the puzzle.

Making my way across the street and back to the office, I waved my way past the front desk personnel and up the stairs. My chiropractic role at the facility was, overall, a pretty straightforward job. I treated current patients, recruited new ones, and entered the day's activities into the computer software that the ownership could monitor remotely. The "main office," was elusive as all of the offices were essentially 'mobile units' and the office manager moved around from on the various days of the week. So, the main office was located where ever the office manager happen to be working that day. There were four operating offices, and one fifth one that was in constant state of recruitment for another doc to service, but more importantly, add to the billing bottom-line. The West Hollywood office located right on the Sunset Strip, the Southbay office, which I still have no idea where its actual location is. The Santa Monica office is just across the street from where I, from time to time, would Karaoke. Hahaha. And lastly, there is the Century City office on Constellation and Avenue of the Stars where I provided services. Somehow, having a better vocabulary and ease of speak with pretty much anyone landed me the position. It was a position that I had only come to appreciate its depth and ambiance in the immediate months following my surgery. 
       
When last patient checked out and paid with his Titanium American Express card, which was literally made of titanium, I began the check out procedures of the day. 
"Superbills? Faxed. Patient's? Checked in. Receipts? Stapled. Emails? Sent. Invoice log? Updated." I thought and likely said lightly as I prepared a final sweep for the end of the day. Updating my invoice log was my way of knowing exactly what to bill the group for services provided as the more patients seen would increase or decrease my invoice amount. Either way, I would periodically compare the software log of patient visits with my own to make sure everyone was accounted for somewhere as did the office manager and billing staff. Every now and then, I would find a discrepancy in office's favor. 
        
As was the case most nights, I'd walk down to the lobby and shoot the crap with the desk personnel still hanging around while I decided what I would do with the hours of sunlight. It was happy hour somewhere, and now that I lived in the original West Hollywood condo rental, getting home only 20 minutes versus the normal 45 minutes it took driving to the apartment I shared with the nurse or even my temporary place on Beachwood.  
       '
"What's up Dr. F.I.L.?" One of the desk staff would immediately spout out. 
"You know...deciding what to do. Any recommendations?" I said with a look that was somewhere between tired and potentially just needing a bourbon to get the night started. I didn't actually go out much even before my surgery, and it was a rarity in the months I lived on Beachwood largely due to the parking shortage. If I could find a spot to park, I'd take it and walk to the closest place that would serve me and get a bite to eat. That's when I lived at the Beachwood place. But now, I was in West Hollywood, and that meant I could go anywhere and not have to worry about where I was gonna end up cause I had an off-street spot to park in and that was P.R.I.C.E.L.E.S.S. I could walk to my favorite Mediterranean place, cruise the Sunset Strip, hit the Abbey, the gym, a protein shop, Starbucks, and I'd be able to do it within minutes. Yes, I was exactly in the neighborhood I started living in before I had to give it up to accommodate the Nurse and her 78 lb dog, and it felt good.  

Terrel gave me his fist in the air to blow-up followed by, "I wanna hear more about your party crashing with Alexis?!"
"Hahaha. I guess it was rock star!" I said now wondering how he knew I had gone out with her.  "How did you know we went out?"
"Ya know...It wasn't a big secret when she came in and asked if you were playing doctor the other morning. Then the ladies by the pool mentioned it. Hmmm. And, it seems she got a little red-in-the-face when the ladies' asked about you, but didn't have much to say....or maybe the right thing to say. Whatever it was, the ladies have been keenly interested in which days you're here." 

I laughed as I usually do when I'm not sure what should be said or not. "I guess you'll have to keep putting it together Sherlock!"

I wasn't sure that was a good or a bad thing--it was what it was. I smiled and stated a rule of thumb I try and follow, "Don't kiss and tell. You know how it (the dating game) goes!" I said not confirming or denying any of the talk especially if it had anything to do Alex. Turning to leave, I gave my now regular index finger wave and made my way out only to find myself in Friday early evening traffic going into West Hollywood. Terrel mentioned a couple of spots to check out on Sunset boulevard in Hollywood proper giving me an idea of what I could do, but what I actually did was a completely different.

The temp was relatively cool making the breeze from the window refreshing, and traffic was, more or less, moving at a descent pace. It was Friday, and there was a little more excitement in the air indicated by the growing valet lines to the newly open clubs and bars just off of Santa Monica Boulevard. I could care less to wait in line to get into a place before they were full. Even the overly, or rather nearly undressed, model-types trying to make their case to the doorman so as to not have to wait in line; it was a scene I am all too familiar with in from my former nightlife days and was happy to only witness it at a distance while driving by.

As had become my nightly ritual out of necessity more than choice, I picked up a few fresh fruits and vegetables and a roasted chicken and chopped myself a salad with carefully measured portions. It was easy, and surprisingly effective in my approach to dealing with my underlying health concerns. When it was over, if I saw the roommates, I'd wave and make my way out to walk the boulevard a bit to see what was happening. Sometimes I'd drive to Bird's Cafe and grab a cocktail with a few of the locals I had become friends with in my short-term stay in the neighborhood. We'd people watch and place our bets on whom the lucky girl or guy would be that would be 'pulled' into the night by one or two of the other bar regulars. 

However, this night I decided to grab a yogurt as a treat and watch the traffic go by on the boulevard and maybe walk by the Abbey and see what the crowd was like and listen to the music; it was some of the best dance music I'd come across in my few times out after the surgery and the days I lived in the neighborhood previously. As the night went on and I finished my cup of Vanilla-Chocolate Bean flavored yogurt, I wrote in my journal on what I thought, how I felt (if anything) about what my current life experience, and what it was like and becoming. I was exactly where I had started just a year before less the corporate job, less the Minnesota girlfriend, and a growing level of instability. These are the things that we look back on and often wonder why, so I attempted to capture them...unadulterated and filter-free.

"It's not exactly where I thought I'd be last year when I was sitting here and living just around the corner, but that's real life. We can plan all we want, most of us, and what actually happens is to some measure, more or less, out of our control. What we can control is our emotional response to life and what happens to us...this ability--how we respond emotionally to things--shows one's real color, experience, or grit. It's in these times that we either shine like a light or we fade into the abyss. At least I'm a Chiropractor with license to practice, and I have most of my health. It's a fair start, but better than nothing. It might be the right time to go back to the Home Land while it's warm...." Red Journal: The Thirties, except from May 3, 2013. 

It was true. Taking inventory of my liabilities and assets and determining what I had to make a run at having a normal life either here in California or Minnesota. It was a short task considering I had sold-off most of the my corporation's assets to give myself a little breathing room to move, and make a change. Sure, I wanted both, but I was quickly coming to realize I would have to choose one. It was a decision that was being aided by outside events, which I could manage but would need time and a better money machine with which to do it. 

I needed to leave or out live the circumstance... not that I was living the high-life even if it looked like it. More importantly, I had to work on getting the "all-clear" from my healthcare providers, which due to technical issues had left me without insurance when I needed it and a small mountain of medical bills that was preventing me from seeing my providers after the fact. Who would've thought you'd be denied health care in America because you don't have health insurance and you don't have enough cash to pay for the remaining bills after forking out thousands of dollars. "I guess I became a doctor for that very reason...to skip the health industry machine." I thought.  The task of getting coverage with a "pre-existing condition" had made it impossible and prevented me from getting coverage. I sent Val a text to see if she might be free for a coffee or something as I wasn't quiet sure she where she spent her time out, and before too long, I'd be out.

The next day came quickly as they often did on work days. Within minutes of hitting the sofa or bed, I was usually out exactly the way I got there. I would only wake if the light started to shine into the window or my alarm went off--either was usually around 5:30 or 6:00 AM. Like any day, I grabbed what I needed to hit the canyon and eventually a seat at my favorite Starbucks' on Melrose. Val had actually text me back at some extremely early hour of the morning. "Great!" I thought leaving the condo and making my way up Sunset Blvd.

"Hey. I'm free tomorrow night if you are." Her text read.
 I figured, "What the hell!?" "I'll meet you at 7:00 your place?" Which I thought was the building where I had lived formerly with the Nurse, but I wasn't sure.
"Sounds good!" She texted back. I guess I better make sure it was the Jefferson she lived at as it could've been her chic friend's place, and she may have been just crashing the night when we had allegedly met. 

Confirming with her it was the same place, I laughed. If she was willing to meet up with me even for a coffee, it was gonna be better than doing nothing, again, on a Saturday night. Plus, I might be able to get out of her more info on that random rendezvous we had not to many weeks back, and find out what the deal was with the old man she had been with at the mall the previous day.

The Jefferson, Hollywood. 7:01 PM. (Later that day.)
As luck would have it, I managed to get into the building with a few people I knew from my residency there. Val had already text me the apartment number and essentially said to make my way up and walk in as the door would be open. "Not so safe," I thought reading it, but figured she likely had a big-ass dog waiting on the other side of it as most girls seemed to if it wasn't a mule. 

Arriving at the seventh floor apartment, I was struck with deja vu. The burning candle smell, the sofa, and the view out the window from the living room that faced the hotel across the street were all too familiar to me. Before I new it, a hand slipped into my pocket and began turning me around. "Hey!" I said to the now half undressed girl standing in front of me. 
"Did I come to early?" I said attempting to not appear too interested in her body and get distracted before I could whistle some information out of the girl. She was slender but athletic evidenced by the tone in her calves and the curve of her glutes, and the definition in her shoulders. Her hair was auburn, wavey, and reached just past her shoulder blade. She was tan but had no tan lines. She was healthy looking, but I could tell it was either her or the roommate that had a cleaning issue considering all the clothes spread around the living area.

"Nope! You're right on time," she said while planting a kiss on me only to walk away saying, "Give me a minute. I'm almost ready."
"Ready for what exactly," I thought but actually said, "Nice view you got here," while turning back around to look out the window. 
"Yeah. You said that last time you were here!" Slightly laughing at my comment.
"So, I have been here before. Hmm." I thought.
"And then we had a shot or two that night, and you made out with Traci. But, she's not here anymore. She lost her job and moved back to Pasadena with her parents," she said with a half smirk.
"You're apparently very sweet and really good, but I wouldn't know because you left before I could get to you. Every once in a while you put yourself in line for a good time!" I laughed as she stated the rest of what happened in my ever so vague recollection of that night. 
"Ahhh. I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I'll take it!" Trying to act like I didn't know what she was talking about because I actually didn't.
"I suppose you'll have to see if we get that far. Ready!" Val softly said while pressing herself into me and doing what only a guy would do--she smelled me.

When it comes to the sex game, there are a certain number of things that are either deal breakers or a segway into what will be good story-telling like someones' smell. If their perfume or 'smell good'  smells too strong or not one that's actually appealing or they physically smell funny--it's over. We might be polite and finish out the agreed upon outing, but it's just a courtesy. That seemingly polite halve hug with the direct kiss from either party is that decision being made for what could be a mating encounter. If you think about it, you're already at step two in the process, you're going out somewhere together presumably for a date, but if you examine the scenario, sometime before that, the two of you saw each other somewhere and decided that the other person, consciously or unconsciously, would likely be an experience you're willing to give up a little of your privacy to find out...the telephone number, where you work, etc. 

Sometimes it's completely organic meaning you happen to be sitting at Starbucks' and some person is standing next to you or sits by you and the conversation begins. Did the person sit there because they thought you were cute, and it just so happen that a seat right next to you came open? Or, is it the unconscious mind at work putting you in 'play' in the ever so illusive mating or sex game!? Hard to say.  

As we made our way out onto Hollywood Boulevard, the music and chaos of the street started to get louder and more difficult to ignore. Within a few minutes we made it to a smaller backroom bar just a couple of blocks away. As we drank, Val told me what I needed to know about the part of the night that involved them. Somehow, I ended up in the elevator with them and was essentially dragged to their apartment by her roommate Traci, which I had honestly found attractive because her seeming innocence as we passed each other from time-to-time in the hallway or on the elevator in times past. When she realized I wasn't dating the nurse, she decided in was time to branch out and see if I was interested. I guess she really just wanted to get it on, but I'm not sure that actually happened. "You seemed like you had been slipped a 'party enhancer' and were talking fast, laughed a lot, and periodically you'd slow down." Val said slightly laughing and messing with my hair. 

"Drugged." I thought. Partly drugged as I would discover. It was the reason so many people had flashed me the 'rock star' sign as I passed them if they happen to have been at that party. From what I could put together, it was everyone I likely knew and knew of me from the area and the 'Club and Spa'. It did answer a few things, but it left a gaping whole to the part before I ran into the girls and when I left them to return to my jeep after...so I thought. 

"Do you want to get out of here?" Val asked pulling in a little closer. 
"Sure. But, only after you tell me what the deal is with the old guy I saw you with in the Bentley!" Laughing as I pointed and gave her the 'shame, shame' look.
"It's Hollywood. People know people or are people that can get you into different industry roles. I'm trying to get on a sitcom, and even if I just got a minor part that I would fit perfect for, it would pay for the rest of my year's rent and then some." She said in a tone that implied I should've known better.

"I don't have sex with old men. ("I wonder what she means by 'old men'...." I thought and continued listening.) I just give them a lot of attention and meet their friends and see what happens and play the arm candy. Otherwise, I do promo work which is okay but not at all steady." Making her point clear while slightly smiling.  So, it was. We left and made it back to her place where we had another shot, ran down to take a dip in the pool, and eventually woke up to watch the sun rise. We would eventually become friends. "Friends!?" I thought like the number of other girls that came into my life in those days. I didn't quiet get it till later that it was partially my role at the Spa and Fitness that was getting me some of the dates that virtually cost me nothing. The rest was just an acceptance of who they were as people trying to make it just like I was. 

The Girls And The "Dating Game."
Then encounter with Alex, Val, and apparently Traci  left me a little more settled about the night in question from weeks before. I had run my course with Alex, and her account of it was more or less like my own except her story included us getting it on, but it was more involved than I remember it for that first night at least. I guess there might have been a little something in the drink, and unfortunately I'd never figure out exactly what it was. 

Like most of my encounters with the girls, they would be fun for a while, but eventually left me feeling that I wanted something different. Don't get me wrong. I totally enjoyed them and all the different places they came from with their various life-styles and stories. When I'd wake up some days and they were gone or some other one came and left, and in some instances never to be heard from again, is was then that I wondered if that's what woman feel with when they go out and get hooked?! I suppose it's what I needed to help me stay connect with my own physical self in a non-relationship based environment, and that has it's own value if not just to tell you, "You've still got it!" 

Most girls in L.A. were either transplants, of a Jewish background or actual people from the town that were born and raised in L.A.--the 'locals' were usually the nicer of the bunch. I guess the Jewish ones were pretty okay, but finding the ones that would date a non-Jewish guy was tough. So like most people, I took to the web and joined J-Date-the Jewish dating web-site to see if I could take advantage of the largest population of women in town. I figured if I put myself on it and would 'consider converting', I could at least hit up a few of the more open-minded ones. Eventually, I get a few invites that never turn-out to be more than coffee.   

Surprisingly I had more luck walking down the street and asking women why they were waiting in a line of people trying to get into a club that likely had weak drinks, an over-priced door-fee, and a bunch of guys that likely didn't know what to do if they got their attention. I know. I sounds easy, but it's not.
On one occasion, I stopped by a line of people (mostly Asian woman), and the one Caucasian gal standing in line was two feet taller than all the other chics waiting to get in to some hole-in-the-wall. 

"What is this? Asian night?" I said to the gal standing there obviously unsure of why I was talking to her and laughing....necessarily at her obvious advantage in the ling.
"There's a good DJ spinning!" She said as I turned my ear to the window replying, "I guess." "Where are you going?" She asked in short. (Guys: This is normally the non-verbal indicator that where ever it is you're going might actually be more interesting than waiting in line. A. She knows what you like. B. You may actually be able to  put a sentence together. C. Instead of taking her chances on the inside of a 'full' bar and an unknown factor of men, why not 'invest' a few moments here and now, and if the guy in front of you is worth your while.)  "I'm grabbing a drink down the way here. Interested?" I said directly with a pause that was long enough to make her respond or back away from it-verbally on non-verbally. 

Without a hitch, she stepped out of the line and joined me for the short walk.
She was a Ph.D. in child psychology, an Olympic competitor as well as a martial artist. We had a couple and eventually walked by the front door guy with some old school hand-shaking, and before long, the invitation to join her home. I politely declined that night. It is sometimes nice to not drink alone and not have to worry about what's supposed to happen at the end of the night. Just sayin. Dating was not my favorite thing to do, but it was a necessary one.

July 15, 1:16 A.M. The End of Karaoke Tribute Night.
The night was coming to a close. Waving Bret to bring me a check and finding my guest was a little daunting with the crowd of foreigners and locals also leaving the scene. It was the end of a full night of karaoke, foreigners, and half-ass descent singing considering the cocktail or two I drank. It's likely I had a shot or two, compliments of the house, because I didn't have to work the next day. My days at the "Club and Fitness" had come to an end, and I was flying back to the Home Land to an uncertain future. 

"You're up!" Fallon pointed out to me as he pointed to the flat-screen. I wasn't sure I was going to get to sing another song, but Tarin (karaoke host) decided that it would be a good finish to the night. As she announced the night's closing and my finishing it off, I grabbed the mic looking around the room to see what the crowd was like. As the bass from the song thumped through the air and my ears, the crowd quieted slightly. 

"I've actually sang this song before!" I said as a few people from the crowd laughed because I usually said the opposite about most of the songs I sang. "This is my first time singing this one," or, "I heard this song the other day, and I thought I'd try something new," is what I'd say.  After a couple of songs with good hand claps and the periodic lighter in the air, people probably just assumed I was a local performer out for a night of fun. I suppose I was. What most people didn't know was what I had done for a living till that very weekend, which again, most people didn't believe. Every time I started to sing, it was like a scene from that television show with the high school kids singing and dancing around in it, fun, believable, and well practiced...so it seemed.

"See the stone set in your eyes. See the thorn twist in your side, and I'm waiting for you..."  I started to sing U2's With or Without You. As the song progressed, the crowed started to chime in during the chores, "...with or without you." I knew the song pretty well. It was one of the first songs I had sang publicly in high school. One of my friends at the time said I sounded exactly like Bono when I sang. I guess. Back then, however, I had no idea that Bono was the lead singer of U2, and I didn't know U2 actually sang that song just to show you how musically "un-inclined" I was going through high school!  

The more I sang in front of people, the easier it became for me to see things for what they were-a moment and a largely well directed one. In that moment, I could connect with people in a way that was completely different than my day-to-day encounters with clients or patients. Admittedly, I was becoming comfortable entertaining the crowd with song...something I guess I always knew but had largely disregarded because of "practicality."  I came back to sing karaoke as often as I could letting it reset me for the week or decrease my stress if I was in another town on business and karaoke was happening somewhere. Sing at King's Head was apart of my regular life until the night I left it behind.

June 8, 2013. The Road East....(Just About A Month Earlier).
Just as the sun's light began to fill the sky that colored the horizon with a red glow, I awoke. "The sun rises in the East," I thought getting out of my jeep to stretch slightly attempting to shake off the night's sleep. Crashing in my jeep was not uncommon in my last days in town. It made it easier than driving anywhere after a few drinks, or being the wrong side of town, and I didn't want to create any legal issues before my departure. Not to mention I had given up my lease the week before in preparing to leave and didn't want to out-stay my welcome with any one of my local friends. Now, a little 5:00 a.m., I was looking around and taking all of the scene in again. 

The night before, I took in a couple of commemorative drinks with a co-worker. It was my last night in the City of Angels potentially drawing a loose conclusion to a seven year adventure in California. All of the essential things I needed for a new start I left in storage. Pending successful treatment of any remaining cancer and an all 'clear' status, I would make my way back. Everything else, I had carefully packed into my jeep if I hadn't sold it or given it away. I was good at that--giving things away. I would often laugh as I had so few things one would think to hoard them, but I learned from my step-father, a migrant farm worker from the streets Mexico, what real poverty is and to give things to away to people that have even less. The shoes and the clothes I hadn't given away or sold, I packed carefully into my jeep with all the basics I needed to run my corporation remotely.  "Phoenix, AZ", I said out-loud so my navigator would auto program. It was time to start driving.  

The sun rose steadily higher in the horizon dragging up with it the temperature; it would be a concern later in the day when I got to the desert where temps rise from a mild 75 degrees to over a 100 in a matter of hours.  The only cool air came from the windows being down. The AC worked fine after 15 years without ever recharging it. The blower, on the other hand, stopped working couple of years back along with the heat. I didn't need heat in Cali, and as long as the jeep drove faster than 55 mph, the AC would cool the cabin down just enough to not cook to death. This prompted the early morning start. My friend lived in the desert, and getting to his home before the sun would reach its zenith was a good goal. 

"Six kids!" I thought while laughing at random college day jokes and incidents that came to mind from our college days. We had shared a living space in Fremont, CA when we were college interns in 1996. It was then that I got to know the area, his family, and watch his story unfold with a girl he had only corresponded with via letter writing before determining she was the proverbial one. I thought I would return to California soon after our interning experience, but I hadn't due to life unfolding in its own way for me. By the time I had made my way back to California, eleven years had passed, and we, Jon and I, had gone out into the world to find our destiny. He went into ministry. I went into real estate, security and eventually healthcare. But now, essentially ten years later, we were finally going to meet up again. Our last conversation via mobile was more of a 'Q and A' session. 

"So having a type of out of body experience..did that change your view of God?" Jon asked. My reply was the same. 
"My theology is simple and not based on events, good or bad, that happen to people, but rather how we respond. And this is where I think people get it wrong. They typically expect that if they live 'good' lives that they will only get 'good' things out of it or at least be spared the worst of events. So when tragedy or calamity comes to them, they immediately start asking the same questions, "Why is this happening to me? Why this? Why that?" And, they miss it. Ultimately their world paradigm changes or they change with the event, and more commonly, they never get passed the event hoping that what they've learned about the world or life and even God is somehow still true." 
     
I suppose there's likely some truth woven into those peoples' world view, but it usually comes into fruition when tough things come into their reality. What likely saved my belief in the Almighty was the very fact that I didn't expect Him to only give my life good things but remained open to all. So when tragedy did come, I knew I would overcome even if I didn't know it at the time. I guess you get better at it when you come from Minnesota and the snow, rain, ice, and heat regularly challenge your experience! Ha.ha.ha. 

Jon's invitation was a long-running one. When I moved to California in 2007, I figured it would be easy to actually drive over and see him. But, again, life got in the way. I was either too caught up in school, running around the country working or he was out of the country when I was in it, and so it went...for ten years. In that time, he managed to grow his family from one to six kids. I suppose he took the Biblical mandate to grow and multiply to heart! I had no excuse to not stop and visit on my way back to the Home Land. And, I was finally on my way. 

Approaching the California/Arizona border was euphoric and slightly emotional. I was leaving the West indefinitely, and doing it with my Jeep was the reality check. I had always planned on returning home to Minnesota, but I never actually thought I would do it. Well, not alone, and not under these circumstances. As usual, I drove way above the speed limit attempting to get the air to cool also flipping through the stations attempting to get something to play. 

You pretty much get country in Spanish and English, National Public Radio, and fuzz when driving through the desert. It was either Cd's or the radio, and I decided I should take in some contemporary country largely because it was annoying and kept me from day-sleeping while I drove. "My pick-up truck this, my dog did that, my tractor this, and she loves me that," are pretty much the basic themes that all country songs seem to center around. I guess. Whatever the song, they eventually got me to Phoenix to pick up other actual radio stations that didn't play country! But admittedly, a few of the songs were catchy. 

After my arrival, I was met by my friend's wife and children and eventually Jon. We spent the next couple of days cracking jokes, eating, and relating on what had transpired in the last few years apart from his children, finishing his doctorate, and my health as of late, and the Nurse's departure or stay as it really was. It was refreshing. It, as my friend Jon would usually point out, seemed as if we would pick up from exactly where we had left off the last time we'd seen each other. As always we discussed theological points of interest and how we felt the Almighty moves in peoples' lives and necessarily the looming question of, "why?"

Before long, Monday arrived, and the few hours of visiting Jon and his family, not to mention a graduate school friend, proved to be fruitful and altogether exhausting from running around in the sun and my ever so unpredictable energy supply. I wished them all well and got back on the road. I drove East and slightly South to Texas. It was 6:15 AM Monday morning, and it was going to hit a 114 degrees later that day. Getting an early start was a good thing. 

June 10th. 9:45 Pm. Amarillo, TX (Sixteen hours later.)
The day had dragged on for hours. Eventually, the air temm cooled down with the sunset enough to drop the windows and take in the air. Warm smell of colitas filled the cabin. I felt I was in my own music video for the Eagle's Hotel California. I had to stop for the night somewhere and get some late dinner. Up ahead in the distance I could see the exit signs with the random 'food' symbol indicators on them necessitating my pulling off the interstate onto the local highway. There in the distance was a bar/restaurant with few strip malls in the immediate area. I figured I could get a burger and some sweet tea. After all, I was in Texas. 

Giving myself a wipe-down and partially fixing my hair from the free-way blown look it had taken on, I walked into the place. It was fashioned in what would normally be a country type of theme, but it was just likely the way the places all really were in general. The sign lite up, "Karaoke Night!" "Sweet. A little free entertainment," I thought approaching the hostess station. 
"Just you?" Said the hostess leading me to a table sightly off to the left of the opening. 
"It might get a little loud in a bit. It's karaoke night, and everybody thinks they're a singer." Shiela said as I said her name to her trying to make small talk. 
"What do you want to start with? Beer, drink, app.?" Shiela continued handing me the menu and a glass of water. 
"I'll take an iced tea...sweet tea if you have it." I said paying attention to the karaoke hostess setting up just across the bar from me. The line of people already filling in their name and song was already a few people deep. 

As the crowd started to fill the place, the tables on the outside deck peered in to check out the brewing commotion. And before too long, the hostess started inviting people to come in and sign up. As I drank my sweet tea and waited for my order to show, I listened to the people sing. A few of them were pretty good. The crowed was overly interactive acting like they were the judges to America's got talent by either cheering people on the stage or booing them off of it. The hostess sat back and chimed in every now and then announcing the next person up for roasting as it turned out and why the crowd should either give them a thumbs up or a thumbs down; she didn't seem to have any real methodology to it either apart from maybe she didn't like the song or the singer. I decided if I got my name called before I got my tab, I'd sing a song. 

Walking up to the table to put my name and song selection in, the karaoke hostess looked at me and asked where I was from as it seemed clear to her I wasn't from the area.
"I'm driving home to Minnesota from West Hollywood," I said with a smile trying not to interfere with the crowd or get too caught up in the commotion. 
"Fil Thunder! That's your name?" She said with some look of annoyance but interest all wound into one. 
"Yup. It's my singing name at least." I said smiling and making my way back to my table to be greeted by my server with my over-sized burger. 

Shiela asked, "Did you just sign up for karaoke?!" 
"I did. Anything I should be concerned about?" As the karaoke hostess got on stage to talk up or down the crowd from the last singer that I thought did pretty okay, but apparently not according to the hostess that was partially disagreeing with the crowds' positive response. Shiela pointed toward the stage at the hostess and said,"That's why!" As she half laughed.
"Well I hope you can at least work the crowd a little cause she'll let you know or the crowed will let you know how you did. If they like you, the karaoke hostess will let you sing a second song. If not you got your few minutes of action for tonight at any rate."

It's in moments like those that one isn't sure you made a good song choice or a bad one. This is largely determined by two very important things: One-How well you know the song. Two-How well you know the song and feel comfortable singing it without the words. Fortunately, the lyrics were on a few of the scenes through out the bar and being on the stage wasn't that essential but maybe preferable. As I chomped down the enormous burger that sat in front of me, I watched. People were into it inside and outside on the patio. It must be this part of towns' thing to do on a Monday. 

About a half a swallow later. The hostess got on stage essentially thanking the last singer for leaving the stage early so she could yell the following,
"Is Fil Thunder still in the building! Ha." She said at the crowd looked around. Off in the distance, I raised my hand into the air and started making my way to the stage attempting to chew my bite a little faster and swallow. 
"This guy is from California, and where did you say you were driving home to?"
I had barely cleared my throat to say, "Minnesota." 
"That's right. Up North. You been driving all day?"
"Yes. Mame!"
"Are you ready to do this?" She asked me as she turned to the crowd saying, "This golden man is gonna try and sing us some country!" Turning toward me again she said, "Do you even know what country is?! Well I guess we're gonna find out! Ain't we!" 
The crowd roared in laughter and probably slight ridicule.

I laughed. I wasn't sure what to think at that moment, but I took the mic and stepped up onto the stage. She cued the music to start playing, Luke Bryan's I Don't Want This Night To End started to play. The crowed reacted just as I hoped they would hands up and slightly yelling. 
"Our lovely hostess is pretty cute, eh?!!" Starting to get the crowd to agree with me while at the same time turning the crowds attention to her and slightly off of me. They laughed, and as the moment came, I started in on the song like I knew it. Fortunately, I had been stuck in the desert listening to country the last three days. It just so happen that this song seemed to be playing on every radio station, and it was catchy. Catchy enough that I had downloaded it so I could learn it in case this very moment might come up without the judgment panel front and back! 

Walking off the stage and walking through the crowd was easy for me, and the extra flat screens made it easy for me to know where I was in the song. As encouraged people to put their hands up and join in on the chorus, the hostess just starred at me in what seemed to be disbelief. The patio people were looking into the place trying to figure out who was singing only to find me looking right back at them mic in hand and on point with the acapella ending of the song. Finding my way back to the stage to let the remainder of the song finish up, I addressed the crowd, "Our karaoke host was so kind to let me entertain you tonight. It's true I'm from Minnesota. It's also true that I'm drive there from California. What she didn't know is that my mama if from DALLAS. And the last time I checked, that's here in Texas. 
God bless America!" I said nearly messing it up with my traditional 'Rockin Roll' exit. 

As the hostess took the mic and made her way onto the stage she said half surprised and half like she had really knew it, "Did anyone see that coming!? I mean...holy shit Mr.!" 
She nodded and called out the next singer, and the crowd cheered again. It was a good few moments I thought making my way back to my table and big-ass burger.
Shiela came up to my table and congratulated me saying, "What did you say you did in California?" 
"I didn't!" Laughing a little asking for some more tea. "But, I sell cigarette lighters to gas stations for a living." Laughing again at the story I normally tell people when they ask me. 
A few minutes into our small talk, a drink showed up at my table a few minutes later from the hostess. 
"Hmm. That must mean the hostess liked your singing. You gonna sing again! Not everybody gets too on these nights." Shiela said half wondering. I suppose I could sign up for another and see if I get called before I close out my tab! Laughing. 

Chewing through another few bites of what could have only been explained by genetic altering in the size of my burger, the hostess came up to my table. 
"Did you get my drink?"
"I did. Thank you. I don't usually drink  when I sing or at least not very much." 
"My name is Skyler, and is your name really spelled with an F...F.I.L.?" 
"Yes. Mame. Its short for my whole name, which I usually don't give out to strangers."
"Are you gonna sing another song?" She said half unsure if I was interested or not in her.
"Sure. Giving her the piece of paper with the song and artist on it. 
"God dammit! I knew you were gonna pick that. I just knew it." 
"What!? Doesn't your country loving-ass not have that one in your song cue?"
"Yes. I do. How long are you in town? She said through the noise.
"I guess till tomorrow. I need a little shut-eye after this show and whale of a burger."
"That'll do it to ya..it's a Whataburger!"
"Why do you ask...how long I'm in town?" Staring intently at her so as to make her slightly uncomfortable. 
"Maybe have a second drink with you if you still here later or help you with that one the ways things are going." She laughed and left stirring up the crowd.

As she walked away, I took the few moments to take a look at her. She was tall, but maybe it was the boots. She appeared semi-athletic, but that was yet to be determined. She was an old-young, which is to imply she must've lived a lot of life or was living it in real time, and it was aging her enough to notice. People often make reference to this as potentially having an old soul if they're more inclined to be 'spiritual' versus some religious attache. Her hair was blonde or dirty blond; I'm never really sure what the hell that means, but it's what girls say their hair color is when they're not platinum. "No wedding ring or otherwise...maybe" I thought.  

The crowd started to let up just a little come the end of the second hour of singing. I had just finished paying for my tab when I hear the karaoke host yell out, "Where are you going Mr.?" I turned slightly to smile. "Don't you want to hear this guy sing another song?" She asked the crowd to which they reply "Yes!" "I suppose." I thought and raised my right hand into the air giving a 'thumbs' up making my way to the stage. 
"Our wonderful hostess asked you, and you decided you want another song. Well, I only know a few country songs that I just half-ass learned driving through the desert and a bunch of classic rock, and I love rock'n roll. So here's a classic Cocker song. The hostess started the song, and crowd quieted up a bit. I could see the people making commentary about the music and my singing. Good or bad. It didn't matter. What was important was how I sang it.

"Pick up all the pieces of this shattered dream. We're gonna make it out and make it back to stay..Ahhhgh!" Singing, When The Night Comes by Cocker is no easy feat. It can essential wipe your voice out for the next day or two. So you have to sing it last. Either way, it makes people feel patriotic for some reason or another. Well, I feel that way at least. 

Leaving the stage and getting a lighter applause, I determined it was time to leave as the hostess addressed the crowd reminding them that it was my mama's roots that likely gave me the singing talent. I laughed thinking my mom would likely be all teared up hearing that.
The next song started while I made my way to the door giving a few 'high-fives' and returning a few thumbs up.

Half way down the stairs, I caught the what sounded like, "Where are you going?" By Skyler. With that customary look on my face that implies I know exactly what I'm doing, I replied, 
"I'm gonna go get some shut-eye. You? When does this pop-stand close up?"
She looked at me wondering if I was gonna wait around or necessarily meet her later, which never happened to me in California after a performance. 
"Where? Remembering the Motel Six sign on the off-ramp I said, "Motel Six. I think they left the light on for me." Laughing. "Want me to buzz you in a while after I let that Godzilla of a burger digest a bit?" 
"Sure. I could use some company and conversation if you're up for it?"

It's this moment that you, as a guy, have to determine weather or not you really gonna be awake or not. More importantly, just in case, if you had had too many drinks to give an after show performance (Not usually my problem as I have a two drink rule...most of the time.).
"I'll shoot you a text later. If you come by, sweet. If you don't, no big deal," I said trying to be polite but really hoping I could just go to sleep. I could see her looking back at my jeep as I drove off through the rear view mirror. Driving down the road to a half empty shared parking lot outside Motel Six and a few other fine establishments, I locked my doors, dropped my seat back while setting the NPR station on, and I drifted to sleep. It was a pretty okay night as Mr. Miaggi would say. 

"Well if I don't send her the text, what will it matter? Nothing." I thought. So I didn't.
"If I did she was not likely gonna wanna hang out in my car, and it might mean I'd loose sleep expecting her to show up only to not have her show up at all." So I didn't, and I slept for what seemed like hours only to have to get up to find a place to use the "john" right as the sun started to rise. It was time to get on the road after finding a little bit of food for the road. I was off to make my way back to the North. I saw a bunch of nothing, and managed to get pulled over by a trooper for not signally far enough in advance, but I didn't get a ticket. One last night sleeping in my jeep in New Mexico was all I needed to make it all the way into the Home land, and when I saw the sign, "Minnesota Welcomes You," I just about teared up. "Strange," I thought.

July 16th, 2013. The Elder In the Blue House.
Just a few blocks away from my mother's home in West St. Paul also know as the West Side, is a blue house where one of the founding members of my childhood Hispanic church lives. A strong member of the community and spiritual leader, La Hermana (the sister), as everyone called her, was generous, strong in character, firm in her resolute of faith, and pleasantly kind. She fed the disadvantaged, and prayed for the lost, and clothed the poorer in her years of service to the Almighty via her home and our church. Plagued with stomach cancer in the years following with successful treatment results, she took it upon herself to reach out to me one day after coming aware of my own struggle with cancer. We had't actually spoken in a number of years (20 to be exact), but she knew of my life and the stories of it from my maternal grandmother, which was one of her life-long friends and fellow church founders. The two are likely the best Mexican cooks the Twin Cities has ever known, and together they would combine their cooking power, talents, and spiritual travail to raise funds for the church where most of our families attended and kept it going in the years that it seemed it would disband.
         
Calling the number my grandmother gave me, a familiar yet different sounding voice answered the phone, "Hello." It was her daughter.
"It's Fil," I said unsure if she would know my name. I could hear her tell La Hermana I was on the line using my original Spanish given name.
"Mom says to come by the house in an hour because they're trying to get a few things in order."

I replied and continued to get my morning organization of receipts together and plan for the day set. I had just flown back in from Los Angeles the night before and was attempting to keep things in order. When the time came, I drove over to the neighborhood. I never lived in it as an adult, but as a child I had a number memories that were more or less of me running around in it attempting to fill my summer days with something to do. Like most kids that grew up in the projects of San Miguel, I ran around playing or was just running away from the neighborhood kids to avoid getting beat up! There was always a kid that wanted to pick a fight with someone, and it usually seemed to be me. I guess I was skinny, scrawny, and an easy target as a kid! Ha. Ha. Ha. 

The blue house stood out on the block, and it had a few extra cars parked in its drive and the street just in front of it. A number of people were leaving as I made my way toward the fence. Ringing the door bell, I heard la Hermana call out that she was coming to let me into the door in Spanish. As she opened the door, the frail woman invited me in. I found a seat, and she offered me a bite to eat and coffee. I politely declined only to have her ask me again, which is customary in Mexican culture, which dictates you offer at least twice as the host. As the guest, it is also customary to decline at least once even if you hadn't eaten for a while. Hence the asking a second or third time. It's a way for people to save face and be respectful, in a way, regardless of circumstance.

As I sat, I noticed a couple of wall-art pieces of over-sized wooden spoon and forks. Instantly, my childhood fear of being disciplined by my own grandmother with similar type instruments came to mind; it's a healthy kind of fear you had knowing if you did something you weren't supposed to be doing, you'd get a swipe with whichever one was closest to grab by my grandmother! Ha.ha.ha. I half laughed realizing it. My fear of punishment or discipline as it really was, likely kept me out of trouble and likely out of jail my teen-aged years unlike a number of my neighborhood friends, relative, and church friends.

"You saw all the cars and people leaving?" She asked in a quieter voice with a touch of question.
"Yes. Why so many visitors?" I asked partially guessing as she had brought it into conversation.
"I'm getting my funeral and final wishes planned out. I've got cancer again, and I'm not going to get treatment for it this time."

"I thought you were clear and past it." I said in tone that carried a level of surprise and contained concern.
"I was. And, then I went to get checked again, and the cancer came back. I'm not going to live very much longer. It's my time, and I'm ready. I've lived long enough, and I'm ready to go home if that's what the Almighty wants."

A silence filled the air as I was unsure what to say while La Hermana took a momentary mental hiatus. I understood how she felt, and I agreed with her unstated theological understanding behind it thinking back to my latest encounter with death.

"What about you? Have you healed? Still plagued?" She asked with a high level of interest likely already knowing the answers. I told her the facts while absorbing the news of her plan to not treat and ultimately pass.

"I am supposed to undergo a second surgery, but I don't have insurance. Once you get that diagnosis, insurance groups have a way of not wanting to cover you. Besides that, the first surgery cost me everything extra I had. But, I'm working on it as best as I can knowing what I know about health. Doctor heal thy self as they say," I said cautiously with a high level of humility.

"May I ask why you decided to not treat?" I asked softly.

"Sure. I don't want to go through the agony and the pain like the first time. I asked the Almighty to give me health if He wanted to or to take me back to heaven if not. I'm only his servant, and He can do with me what He wants. But, I did ask Him to spare me the pain if I'm to die this way or let me pass quickly." She said and followed by telling me about her husband and her life of service, and that in the end how everything she did was to live a life of worship.

"You have work to do in your life now that He sent you back." She said with a level of               determination and wonder. Your life is more than just you. It's about the people around you and that you touch even if you don't know you are. The power flows threw you and passes into other peoples lives." She said followed by:

"Not all people get to do what you have done or see what you have seen in your life time
from where we come. Take a good look around you when you leave here and while your home this time. Do you remember why you left?!" She asked with a tone that had more interest in it than question.

"Why I went into the forest..."I thought but actually said, "I needed to know more than what I was being told by my parents, the leaders, other people in general." "....And to suck the marrow out of life." I continued to think concluding the quote. "People tell you all sorts of things to just give you an answer or to get you to do what they want you to do willingly. It doesn't mean they have bad intentions when they do it, but there is, by and large, a disregard for your intentions, desires or wishes. I've learned that sometimes they're right other times they're not, but every time, it was to someone else's benefit even if it was a modest matter." I said with a detectable level of disappointment in my discoveries over the years and while on the world at large. 

"Did you find out what you needed to find out that was different than what the people in your life knew?" She asked in a more nurturing tone. And then followed by explaining to me:

You have been given destiny. I can't imagine that the Almighty would send you back if His plan for you wasn't finished. Sometimes, the Almighty sends us things to work through not only for us but also for the people in our lives. Your grandmother treats you like you are one of her own children, and she suffers when you suffer. She knows she can do nothing different than what the Almighty has already planned for you or her, but it helps her focus and gives her something to do. All she can do is pray. All I can do is accept His will and trust that He is in control, and pray. I'm ready to go when my time comes. You are ready to go, but its not your time and you need to see the signs the Almighty put in your life. Remember you came from here, and you might need to help these people see what they don't see, and hear what they are deaf to.

As she continued to talk about the other joys of her life, her children, and sitting outside watching the traffic, she brought me an envelop with money she had raised at a fundraiser on my behalf a couple of days before. "No man is a prophet in his own town," I thought. When I asked her why she went through all that work, she simply said she knew I was going to need it and felt in her heart that it was the right thing to do. She said I was more Mexican than I would admit...too proud to ask for help when it was needed. She asked if I would pray with her before I left. I agreed. After, I said good-bye and left.

Walking back to my jeep, I felt a feeling I hadn't experienced in years; it's the kind of feeling you get when you know it's the last time you'll be speaking to someone. I had the same experience with my former pastor just before I left to work my summer internship for undergraduate school; he died within a couple of weeks of that conversation. I suppose. 

People trying to give you life direction on their way out of this world is worth listening to because it's as if the Universe is trying to use them to point you in the right direction. A couple of months later, I spoke at la Hermana's funeral and related the story of the wooden spoon and fork the to church family only to have the majority of the congregation laugh acknowledging their own experiences with the "spoon" or "fork". "She was right. I needed the help." I thought as people gathered released balloons into the air just before they lowered her into the Earth. I just didn't know at the time.

November 2013, Late Fall In Minnesota ....
The Home Land.
As the weeks grew colder, and the life in the trees and flowers fleeted, I waited. I waited for the right opportunity to present itself to me much like an aspiring actor does in California when they eagerly awaited "the call" as they dredged through one day followed by the next counting how many dollars they'd have left and how much time they had. How much more time would they could hold out before taking a 'normal' job or anything that would help them stand firm a little longer to be available to get that call. "And a new day will dawn for those who stand long. And the forest will echo with laughter." Led Zeppelin's Stairway To Heaven. I wondered if the doors of the Universe had closed me out as if to tell me I was exactly where I needed to be. I guess I hadn't accepted it, but eventually I would have to embrace it. Thrive in it, and grow strong again...if only in my will and belief again in the impossible.  

My attempts to get health insurance continued to be met with "denial" responses. I began to question why I had even come home to the Home Land  in the first place. At least in California I had a job. I had friends. I could do things outside. I could earn a half ass existence with my hands and maybe my smile, but here in the land I hold so fond to my person, I was struggling physically, mentally, and financially. My will to fight for the dream had passed. I thought, "At least in California I knew what I was supposed to be doing, but all of those defining things were gone." This became evident as the below zero weather kicked in and the heater still was A.W.A.L.L. in my jeep. I purposed not to fix it so as to remain motivated to work harder...smarter...faster even if it was -16 F outside.

"Identity crisis,"..I thought. It was the risk I took at an attempt to become whole again physically and mentally....leaving California. At the end of five months, I finally got health coverage, and when I finally could schedule an appointment to see my original healthcare team, I had already given up the on getting a second surgery. The risks, largely due to my own doctoring, had essentially become the same with or without surgical intervention. My decision to forego the surgery and put into action all I had learned about health and wellness had been in action-win or lose, and I continued to win. A couple of my close friends might argue it was a decision I made while being in a depressed state of mind and in the most extreme conditions, but I say it was my way of avoiding becoming depressed and loosing my mind waiting for some uncontrolled part to fit. This way, I at least felt I was in control even if I really wasn't. My life had been given back to me again as other times in the past. I returned to a certain industry to keep me afloat and worked in a completely different area of chiropractic so I could grow in my skill and knowledge, and get by till I could opt out of either in time.

It's during times like these that we begin to understand anew what we're made of and what things motivate us, make us happy or make us wonder. As in times past, random speeches from world leaders would play in my mental player from the Civil Rights movement days. MLK would often state that the arc of a moral universe may seem long, but it bent toward justice. I wasn't exactly applicable as I really hadn't been done any wrong--I got cancer. I lost an award-winning role. I lost a woman, but I found a number of others that seemed interested in what seemed to be a big mess. I, ultimately, lost a dream......
Or did I?

The more I had walked around the neighborhood with my mother more for her health than mine, I remembered things I dreamed about doing as a kid like going to a school where you could wear your own clothes to class and not a uniform like in the Karate Kid. I thought it would be cool to build a bonfire by the ocean and play soccer all the while hitting on a super hot chick that I know might actually date me if I could come up with the right thing to say much like the Karate Kid (Okay still working on that one.). As a kid I dreamed of being someone important that was well dressed and didn't have to get my fingernails dirty working, which I loved doing the whole way till the day I became a doctor (And I still got my fingernails dirty..because I liked to and had to at times) and finished a number of other degrees along the way. 

As a kid, I dreamed that I might visit other countries and get to know other people that lived in them in such a way that I would question how I lived, which were so much different than how I had grown up. Forty-three countries later and a handful of friends that I call the 'mighty men' are guys I went to school with didn't even grow up in the USA, and not to mention all my international friends that I met on those numerous exploits. I had sailed nearly all of the world's Seas, traversed five continents, and attended a number of world-class events along the way to include becoming a bull-runner in Pamplona, Spain. I thought as a kid I would actually get married and have a family (The things kids just don't really know enough about...), but I'm happy to say--didn't do that...yet! 

As kid I thought I might be able understand why people grow up rich and others grow up to be poor. Having seen both sides of it to some degree or another, I have to say there's a lot of reasons for it, and I hope I've broken the code-Royals by Lorde. So many things came to mind as I walked my childhood neighborhood and saw people still there after all these years, but that's like more a Minnesota thing. I had achieved much when I saw where it was that I grew up, and as life would have it, I would come to understand that we never really know how far we can go unless we show up. Ready or not (...although being prepared when it's possible is more desirable..), you have to show up for life and see where it will take you. The idea of "letting go and letting the universe" makes sense. I certainly didn't do it all on my own; there were plenty of people that gave me support the whole way through. But, the journey, was all my own. Carving out a path in life is my job, and I had to be willing to go at it alone if necessary, and when you come from where I came from, it was more likely the case. I believe when we can accept that part of it, reality, for however long it is, we are more ready to share our journey with others. We can pick ourselves up out of the dirt, shake off the dust, and start dreaming and living again.

Get Adjusted To The Good Life.

                                                                    
                                                         Though much is taken, much abides;and though

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven; 

that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive,

to seek, 

to find, 

and not to yield.

Tennyson (1809-1892)

The Pursuit of Happiness. 

PROLOGUE
It's October 2014, just a few minutes after 8:00 A.M., and I'm hanging on to the railing with a pretty good grip in what turned out to be an over-packed streetcar actually named Desire. I've ridden this streetcar, well...any number of them, plenty of times in years past, but admittedly, I was excited to be on it this time. "Why?" You might ask. Well that's part the story. One year earlier, I was in a bleak situation from which I wasn't sure I was going to walk away. More importantly, I had a certain amount of time, again, to make peace with the world, which if you can wrap your hands around, can make prioritizing what's important in your life easy and understanding your situation plain. Having gotten this far in life had taught me a few things when I let it. One of those lessons was taking the time to quiet the noise around and within me. Learning a few things about yourself and necessarily the world and the society in which we live so that it, life, can hit you in the face like a snowball. Things such as honor, the pursuit of worthwhile things and what is right or necessarily wrong change in some instances. You feel free to live, which implies that somewhere along the way we get caught up in other things that gradually take over our existence. I let go of things that perplexed me and ultimately mattered little in the scope of life and living it. Our struggle, or at least mine, to find it again, happiness, is what follows as I navigated my way through the healthcare system, living life, and creating a new dream...a different one, but one that has meaningful things in it..like a relationship, a family, and a future with less worry. This is the end of my story, and what is my anyone's ultimate goal...to pursue happiness. I hope you enjoy it.



October 21, 2014 Pier 37, San Francisco, CA
8:47 AM. A few blocks away from Family X,Y,Z Chiropractic.  
Exiting the streetcar, the all-to-familiar smell of fresh ocean water mixed with a bit of urine filled my nose. The various designer scents faded with the closing of the street car's doors making the other all the more distinct. It wasn't obvious where it was coming from, but it wasn't too hard to guess either. One or the other homeless people milling around the stop was likely the source of the extra 'freshness' added to the morning's air. "Nice," I thought moving toward the Boudin Bakery for a coffee and something to eat. The Southwest flight I was on was delayed by 30 minutes in departing putting a little pressure on me to make all the right moves on the transit system to correct for the lost time. Somehow, it came naturally to me from the deep recesses of my mind... like magic! LOL. The "City", as San Francisco is known as by the Bay area locals and all of its mass-transit systems, I knew well or at least had know well in years past. The numerous trips up to the City had served a purpose in their day that mostly evolved around getting to and from a former girlfriend's place in the Mission/Castro district, and my love of the diversity of people that flocked to the it from all around the world. Every day was different. The City is where I would go to get lost in the crowd, meet new people, and find inspiration to keep working forward in my writing and life planning. Today, I'm prospecting for a change in my professional career...one that could more easily facilitate a return to the land of milk and honey as had been my mental plan all along. It was the second surgery that I could never get covered that had kept me there in the first place, and it was my own knowledge that had lead me to being found "clear" of cancer in the follow months. But now, a new reason had come into the picture, and I had no idea it was happening.

She was about five feet tall, had green eyes, and she went by a number of nicknames, but I mostly called her hun, sweet pie, and periodically, Kull. She has a number of friends with the same name but spelling variations, and so as to not make it confusing they called the other by that nickname. Yes. Nearly eight months before in what was the worst winter storm of the year in Minnesota, we met at the Starbucks on 22nd and Hennepin by accident. Maybe.

January 30th, 2014 Starbucks-22nd & Hennepin, MSP
Eight months earlier.
"This Winter is brutal. The temperatures are constantly below zero, and the snow keeps pilling up. Why the hell am I still here?!" I thought and likely mumbled as I sat looking out the door watching the snow fall. My prospecting trips to California, when I could afford to go, had proved fruitless for a job or career change worth leaving my present position or my life behind for uncertainty. It wasn't much of a life compared to my days in Hollywood, but it was safe, I had regular things to do, and it was all familiar to me. Sure I was a double licensed doc, California and Minnesota, but it didn't easily command a higher salary in my field. What it did do was provide me some flexibility. "At least I have a job, and my health and when the time is right, I'll now it." I thought watching new people come in from the snow storm to get a cup of warm 'Joe.'

Then she walked in.. a gal that could only be described as petite considering her overcoat and hat. I could tell she was frustrated about something, but it wasn't quite obvious to me. As I watched her make small talk with people in the line with her, I caught her eye looking at me. "Hmm. I think she just noticed me." I smiled half content that I might still have "it", but I continued to watch the snow fall. Within a moment, she was in front of me asking if the seat next to me was free.
"Is that seat open?" She asked half smiling and still trying to shrug off the frustration she walked in with.
"Yes. Please join me." I said now mildly amused that the gal that had walked into the store frustrated was sitting next to me.
"Can you believe this!? I spent over an hour just trying to get downtown to work on Hennepin. I never go down this street, but the other roads were so bad, I didn't have a choice." She said with a little perk in her poise.
"You look really tan. Are you from here?" She asked.
"I am." I just moved back late last Summer from California, and when I see this," pointing out the window, "I begin to look for job postings in my field in Cali so I can leave. I anticipate I will be there again as soon as this Summer."

"Are you serious!?" She almost said with some level of glee. I just got back yesterday from an interview in California.
"Really?!" I said with some enthusiasm for her. "Which part of California? When?" I asked hoping to get her to talk some so I could see what she was like. And as she went into to the details, I could only laugh, internally, as I knew it was a 'no-brainer' to leave the tundra for the sun.
"If they offer you more than what you're earning here by enough to cover the cost of living difference, take It. Get the Hell Out! You could try it for a year, and if you really don't like it, you can always come back. But, hell, you have a way out of this mess. Imagine your favorite part of the year here, Spring/Summer, never ending?! What could you do with that? How would it change what your worried about with the changing of the season?!" I said and continued to go on about how great the weather was and how, although I love the Home Land, I could be content visiting those number of weekends and get my fill.

We laughed. We talked a bit more about her job, and then we got the more important topic: dating.
"So, you must be single if you're looking for jobs in California or you need a serious change of scenery. Are you free?" I asked with a very even tone and direct look into her eyes. I could see she was waiting to find out what my situation was also. And she, said she was...free.
"I usually interview gals I'm gonna meet out for coffee. Cause you never know what you're gonna get when you on-line date or meet people through friends. So, I ask a few basic questions that are usually gonna be deal breakers for me in the here and now. I've met some pretty "not the gal I saw in the picture girls" or have them turn into duds because they were socially off or worse."

She laughed and ask, "Well, like what?"
"Number one, I ask if gals are married? I've learned that not all gals are honest about that because they at times think they're not because they're divorcing, etc. etc. But, to me, you're still married until it's a 100% over. I've had that experience already where the gal was done, but her husband wasn't. Or she really hadn't let go, and was just going through the social motions so people thought she had gotten over it, but then decided or some miracle happened so they reconsidered, but really it was the plan all along. LOL." Thinking of the Mn nurse.
"Well, I've never been married." She volunteered with a half smile.
"How old are you? I asked uncertain because of her height and the very youthful look in her face.
I'm 36. I'll be 37 next month! I said, "Perfect. That's the perfect age, but I guess I should ask if you've come close to being married or engaged." She didn't say much about it, but I could tell she hadn't and was thinking to herself about the reasons why.

"So, that leads to questions #2 & #3! If you've never been married, you've not gotten divorced (#2). And as important, do you have any children?" I asked watching her amusement with my screening questions. She laughed. "Ha. No children. Although I've dated men with kids. What else do you have for me?" She said. I went on to say how I couldn't do a relationship with a gal with young children because it meant some other penis was gonna be poking around my relationship with that woman, and I don't deal with extra anyone in my relationships.

"Don't laugh, but because of my family, I usually ask, if gal's are foreign nationals! Clearly, you are not cause you're from here?" I said with a slight touch of questioning wrapped with a subtle smile.
"That's pretty much it. Those are the pre-qualifying questions I have up front. The rest are usually asked when I actually get to meet that person because of the chemistry thing." Her lips pursed slightly. I wasn't sure if it was unconscious or intentional thing, but it was something that registered immediately in my 'radar'. "I guess you're here and in front of me, so what the hell."

"Yessss." She said now fully amused by all of the thought that must have gone into developing a screening number of questions to actually get out on a first date.
"Ha.ha.ha.ha." I laughed squaring myself slightly more toward her person so that I could take all of her person and reactions in. "Well, the next important thing to me is sexual compatibility. I know that might sound shallow, but it's such an important part of a dating or a committed relationship. I have found if the sex is good, things in the relationship go smoother. If the sex is so so, the relationship usually has to be focused on other things, and anything less than that is a 'no-go."

She laughed saying, "I totally agree." It's not shallow. It's reality. I can't imagine how many things you would have to have in common to stay in a relationship where the sex was bad or non-existent."
It was in that moment that I realized she wasn't just participating in the conversation because of the snow storm outside, she was actually interested. A fact I put in the back of my brain.

I went on talking about it with her. "One more thing that I find having been around a few years are that some woman, no all, have trouble 'achieving orgasm' in sex or at all. And unfortunately, that's a deal breaker. I find these women believe it's the man's responsibility to help them achieve that, and some men buy into it. But, what it really is, usually, is that those women are not comfortable enough in having sex with themselves enough to understand how their bodies work, and that can be for any number of reasons (culture, social group, belief systems,etc.). It's still my opinion that if you as a person don't want to have sex with yourself, than why on God's green Earth would anyone else want to?!" This statement sent Kull laughing hysterically as if to let out some of the built up sexual tension that was just created by the conversation out.

When we stopped laughing, I checked the time as did she to see where we were at in our day.
"Wow. Time flies when you're having fun..." I said and she finished by saying, "Or talking about sex!" Ha.Ha.Ha. I sat back thinking of my life and the woman I had just met due to snow storm and why we started talking. "Read the signs." I thought as I reflected on the relationship I had ended the previous month for essentially the very topic she and I had just discussed-less than satisfying sex or no sex. In the moment that those thoughts passed through my mind, I needed to respond to Kull's obvious stalling to leave so I could ask. "So, how is it for you?" I said with a little bit of cautious and a little bit of humble. "It's good. It's really good." She said with a definite tone change in her voice and body language. "Hmmm. I've heard that before, and I guess if that ever happens between us, we can laugh about this 'interview', maybe we'll see."

"So, are you free? As in would you like to meet up for a drink or something else?" I asked again squaring my shoulders with hers while she sat down and gazed back. "Yes." She said as I got my phone out to take her number. I felt contented that we would actually get to meet up again if not to see if we really were experiencing not just attraction but a connection because the better part of two hours had just passed in what seemed like minutes. We left together going our separate ways-her to her City job and me to the gym before I had to make my way to the office.

She was sweet, and seemed very pleasant and easy to talk to. She was petite from what I could see considering her thick camel colored sweater and professional gear. She had a simple beauty that didn't require much make up ( a point I would make with her as time went on). She was smart, and definitely attentive to what I was saying, and, more importantly, she was interested. "I guess since there's a high likelihood she's going to be leaving to California to an area I actually know fairly well and would not live that far from when I make it back. I should see where it goes. You never know. She could be another one the Universe wants me to help guide into the next phase of her life, and then maybe not involve me..or.." I thought starting my Jeep while turning the radio remembering a commercial that used The Mamas & The Papas' song California Dreamin played on the radio. Yup. I was dreamin alright.

When we did finally meet up, almost a week had gone by with a few text messages and short phone call where I learned.....
"I got that job offer I was talking about! The company wants me to move out there and start in a month! I can't even believe it Fil! This is really gonna happen!" She said enthusiastically. I congratulated her mentioning she might actually be there when I was in to do some continuing education for my professional license.
"That's amazing! I'm doing my CE credits around that time. We might actually get to hang-out together in California! I can take you to a few places I know, and we can go to the beach." All of which I said not having even met up with her a first time after our Starbucks interview.  When is a good night to meet up with you this week? I asked hoping to finally meet up with her again. "Tomorrow...Thursday. We can meet at Burger Jone's off of Lake Calhouhn." She said.
"Sounds like a plan to me." I said.


Arriving at Burger Jone's the next night just before 8:00 PM, I saw her pull up in her midnight blue mini car. It was freezing out, again. She was just as I remembered her....dark hair that was shoulder length, a fuller pair of lips, big coat, and light colored eyes that I could never seem to make out in the weeks that followed.
"How was your day? I asked wondering what she actually did for the City.
"Good. Good. I just told my boss I was gonna be leaving at the end of the month. I've got so many things to do...like pack, find a shipping company, and paint my apartment." She said mildly letting on she was tired.
"Painting? I can help you with that if you need a hand. I use to paint apartments when I was just getting into graduate school. Just let me know when." I said kinda hoping she would ask so I could get to know her better before she left and before it got too late our first night out.
"When are you gonna try and drive out of here?" I asked for obvious reasons. I wanted to get to know her like a real person, and not just a gal I could pick up and take home never to see again. I wanted more, and as our conversation grew, it seemed that she did too.

As she spoke about her plans and all the things she was doing, I could see in her face that she had lived some real life. I could see optimism in her eyes, curiosity, hope, and mild traces of pain when other topics came up like former boyfriends or significant others maybe motivating the need for change and looking for a job in a warmer climate. It would come out in time that she had been to the area, Santa Monica and other parts of SoCal in the recent past only to find herself falling for it. As our first night came to an end, I walked her to her car, gave her a full kiss on the mouth, and asked if I could see her again. She said, "I hope so." It was all I needed to hear. We met up a week later at another fun place called Bunny's in St. Louis Park. In the lead up to that time, we made some small talk, texted each other a little more, and talked only to confirm our next meet just over two weeks after we met at Starbucks.

October 21, 2014 Pier 37, San Francisco, CA

Present Story Time: Eight Hours Later- 5th & Market

At the end of the day, I made my way to 4th and Market to meet up with an old girlfriend that was getting married and was going to introduce me to her fiance. 'Brit,' as I called her, and I met in the ending days of doctorate school five years earlier in San Jose. She was my next door neighbor. She was cute, a business jockey, and a semi-social media wiz. We dated for a fleeting couple of months until she got together with the man I was to be be meeting today. We never really talked about how life had transpired for us after she had moved out of the place next to mine. But, to my surprise, she had been an avid reader of my blog and felt a necessity to see me after my near death experience during my surgery. Now that I was in San Francisco it seemed to be the right time.

As I arrived at the place I agreed to meet Brit and her fiance, travel bag and all, I couldn't help but notice how posh the place was. In all my time running around The City, I had only been to places like it for a special occasion or two. "I'd love to bring Kull here." I thought to myself looking around the crowd for them. Her all too familiar name for me echoed through the crowd, "Mister!" She said with a big smile and half shoulder hug. Where's your man!? I asked in high hopes to meet him. "Sam couldn't make it down on time." She said with a look in her eye that I had to ask if he knew who I was. Brit said, "I hadn't actually gotten around to telling him who you are exactly." Half laughing. "I told  him we were going to be meeting an old friend, and he got held up at work." She said with a hint of mischief. "I see. I suppose he might've been more likely to make it if he knew we had dated. Hahaha." I said.
"That's funny! My lady, and I just went though a whole 'boundry' talk on friends of the 'opposite sex' and what our agreement was for the ones that 'have' to persist." I said because it was part of a dialog that had gotten heated between Kull and me because of the number of 'Xs' she still around as friends.

"Really!? And how did that conversation go?" She asked wondering how I actually worked in relationships having gotten a working knowledge of my former girlfriend the nurse-Missy.
"Well, it was pretty basic. If you have friends that you had before me, I wouldn't expect you to not talk to them, but at some point very soon, I would like to know who they are and what the nature of your 'freindship' is or was with them especially if you're gonna hang out with them. I said that in relationship to men in general not ex-lovers or boyfriends. If you have to keep those guys around, I'm gonna have a few more concerns about what your need for them in your life really is. Otherwise, as long as they want to be friends with me too, and they are not "promoting" other types of things with you, I'm not gonna be happy about it, but I can be flexible."

"How did that go over when you told her you were going to meet me?" She laughed with some question about our meeting up. "Well, I told her I was going to be meeting you and your fiance, which was true." I told her you were a former girlfriend and wanted to see me again because of my cancer experience, etc." She was actually very uncomfortable with it, but when I asked her how she expected me to feel different than she felt-uncomfortable, insecure-I asked her why she felt it was OK for her to do the same to me with former lovers, etc. I think it was only then that she realized she had a double standard!" I said jokingly with a touch of seriousness as it was a real concern I had with Kull now that I was going to make myself somewhat more vulnerable to her emotionally and relationship-wise.

Brit was amused. We laughed and shared a couple of appetizers and a few drinks as we talked about how the other met their significant other. Eventually, we left to meet a few of her office friends still at the office working on a project with an immediate deadline. This was only possible because it was exactly across the street from where we were. Eventually, I walked her to the B.A.R.T station, gave her a hug and asked her to send us a wedding invitation when the time came so she could meet Kull, and I her husband.

8:45 PM. Market Walking Toward HI Hostel-SF
I quickly started to make my way down Market street to the HI Hostel from the station entrance. Yeah. I say at hostels from time to time to get some of the foreign element into my reality and to remember the days of running around the world. The place was mildly packed, and all I wanted to do was take a shower and call Kull up and potentially calm her mind of my meeting up with Brit but more importantly just to talk. It had a calming affect on me to be able to do so.

"Ring. Ring....Hello?!" I could hear her soft and semi-tired voice say.
"How ya doing honey? How did work go today?"
"She made a random noise that half expressed the intensity of it..."Blauhaah. Yeah, I made it out and went to the gym for a while. How did meeting your friend go?" She said with a slight hint of insecurity and caution.
"It was good. She was funny. Her dude didn't make it down because he got caught up somewhere. But, we caught up. I told her about you. She talked about her wedding size, and if we might be making it to the reception." I said starting to pass out like I had often did when I spoke to Kull at night when I was home in MN because I'm always two hours later than she when we'd talk, but now, I was just tired from driving, flying, and running  around on mass transit all day.
"I'm gonna be happy to see you tomorrow hun." I said in a reassuring manner. Not that she needed it, but it's always good to reaffirm your sweet heart especially when other people of the opposite sex are involved in your socializing...more so if they're former lovers. We talked a few more minutes, and then bid each other good night.

"I'll text you when I'm on my way in. If anything changes, Ill call you for sure."
"Okay, Hun." She whispered.
It was in that moment I felt some deeper level of understanding her and comfort in a re-established trust that had been challenged by an incident that had threatened it the just a couple of months earlier in August. She was like me..dealing with different insecurities that, from time to time, needed some 'caressing' by the other by affirming her importance to me and attempting to promote an environment that allowed us to just be ourselves and not stressed.

An August Conversation Remembered....
We had started to experience growth pains and with it mild criticisms. Our different understandings of 'friends' and their roles in our lives had come up from time to time, but it began with a misguided text message intended for another "friend" of hers that I was sent accidentally late on a Sunday night. She hadn't realized it till the next day and whether or not they had actually met up for a drink because 'she was in his neighborhood' didn't make sense to me.

"Do you want to grab a drink? I'm in your neighborhood?" It read.
I replied back mildly amused and confused because she hadn't mentioned she was coming into town sooner than Labor Day weekend, but it was possible.
"Sure, I'd love to meet you for a drink. I didn't know you were in town." I text back.
She called me the next day to explain so it didn't come across the wrong way.
"I don't want it to ruin what we have. We have something special. etc., etc." I guess I hadn't thought about it much until she made a bigger deal out it being nothing. Something in my person wasn't sure why she was trying to be so reassuring, and eventually,  a few days later, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had to ask her what the deal was, and it lead to a very unemotional, logical attorney-style question session; I'll be the first to admit my tone is investigative. I was wan't trying to be cold to her, but see things for what they were-good or bad. We had spoken about it before.

"People make mistakes. I get it. We are human. I'm very flexible with that kind of stuff when you tell me or are open about things with me. But if something comes back to me that was misrepresented or not mentioned, I become very inflexible, and it is hard to shut that part of my brain off because it needs to understand everything involved. So maybe you could help me/us out and please answer a few questions for me about that situation so I can shut that part of my head off!" She agreed. So I asked away more or less attempting to figure out, how their 'friendship' had left the confines of the gym and into personal back and forth texting and drinking environment. It had only happened once, which she admitted that she drove herself because she didn't want to give him the wrong idea, but he got the wrong idea anyway.

She had met Jack, (The name I called all her guys friends because I couldn't keep them straight half the time.) at her gym and had thought they were "gym friends', but eventually the gym friendship led to telephone number exchanging and eventually going out for drinks. I suppose she didn't think anything of it, but Jack, on the other hand, did. "I totally told him that we were just friends and that I have a boyfriend more than once." "And, what happened then?" Well, I told him you were cool with me making friends, and that that's all it is. He eventually stopped calling me after I reminded him I had a boyfriend after he sent me some questionable text messages." She said with some level of surprise that he stopped.

"Clearly, what you do communicates differently than what you tell people." I'm Ok with you having "friends" that are new, but I think you kinda have to leave them where you find them, because once it leaves those places, it automatically can be thought of as "something" else." I said a little sternly and likely with some level of condescend not even realizing it. It was not my intention, but it was what she felt. And, I knew we would have to work on that topic more as it happened because, again, I wanted her to experience her life in California, meet new people, and I constantly told myself I would be OK if she met someone and decided to move on, but in my recesses of my being, I wanted her to keep choosing me.

She did. Kull, in her own way, attempted to find another person or group of people she could become part of and explore life or at least begin to create a new one, but she couldn't. "I just couldn't find it in myself to want to be with anyone else, and so I didn't." She talk me after a Q& A session. I admittedly was touched by her telling me it, and part of me wanted her more because of it, but I wanted to be careful because of the obvious-I didn't live there yet, and I wasn't sure how soon it would happen considering the way things were going in the industry. We just started out officially, and I indirectly announced it at a former corporate training friend's wedding in the O.C. mid-August She was listed as my 'significant other' that was to me significant considering we hadn't said much about "US" being an item up until that time.

It was a good time less the hot, long drive down to it. We laughed, and watched people take pictures and made small talk with the people, old trainer friends, at our table. When the time came, we got up to join the crowd slow dancing. As we danced around in what seemed slow but paced circles, I laughed knowing that I actually didn't dance and because that country song came into mind then to...by Lee Brice...I don't dance. But, there I was. Dancing. Spinning her round and round, and again time seemed to be escaping me, and before we knew it, we were on our way to an Airbnb rental in Malibu for the rest of the weekend.

Sure we had talked about it from time to time..that is, becoming an item. It would come up when she visited or when I was there driving with her down the PCH to what was becoming our normal routine of things to do together--it was the beginning of our time. I could hear her asking me or at least telling me, "Ya know if you don't think you're really interested in me, I need to know so I can move on. I'm involved with you because I want something more than just casual...I want something different." I could hear it in her voice and feel it in her energy; she wanted to make sure what she was feeling was really real. Or, that it was just something that might not happen and be hurt if she kept on being available. She brought up other past dating situations where the men really didn't want to commit or would eventually decide that they didn't want kids or some obvious deal breaker leaving her exactly where she had started-with nothing. I knew this, and in that instant, except for I was driving, I felt compelled to reach over to her and touch her knee and eventually grab her hand. Had we not been in the car, I would've picked her up off the ground and hug her, kissed her and told her that everything was going just fine. What actually came out of my mouth was my insecurities about long-distance relationships, but I was open to one with her. "I might have a few expectations. This is gonna change some, but it you're good with it, then let's work it out. She agreed, and I was instantly giddy. More importantly, it felt right and time had stopped for us, again.

It was no big deal for Kull having 'plutonic' friends because she genuinely only intended to be friends, but she also knew from experience that men went either way on it. "That Jack situation was a good thing. That happened for a good reason-so we can grow." I said to her. If you're gonna have friends in a certain place, you try to keep them there. Giving them an "in" into your life outside of that environment communicates you "MAY" be available for something else other than just friends." She understood it because, as if it hadn't before, become more and more obvious that most men didn't see her as a gal with a very understanding boyfriend; they saw it as an opportunity to be an alternate because I lived out of state. Eventually it lead to her avoiding going out to places on her own to avoid the situation on the whole. I never asked her not to go out because I trusted her, but she did on her own after likely too many issues and not wanting to contribute to issues in our relationship. So, when I did come into town, we went out!

As time went on, there seemed to be some guy from somewhere that crept out of the woodwork and wanted to be around and in her life. I didn't care as much about these people before because I trusted her fully and completely until a few months later, a few other incidents that would involve privacy issues between us came into play. We had worked them out as they came up, but not as well as I we hoped to not be sensitive about it when it came to the former lovers.

The Following Day In San Francisco....
Before long, the next day was upon me, and because I was still on Midwest time, I was up at 6:00 AM. The breakfast line opened just before 7:00 AM. I like to eat. I'll be honest, but I don't like to eat alone, so I sat looking out the window at the people passing down below when a red-head gal asked if she could sit across from me. "Sure. No worries. Are you Australian or Brittish?" Uncertain which continent she was from. "Down Under!" She said half laughing. "I see. Please. Feel free to have a seat. No one else is coming?" I asked as we began chatting a bit about her trip now ending that weekend in San Francisco. She was on her way to some ticket counter by 8:30 AM to pick up tickets for some City tour.


"Do you know where this is?" Pointing to a spot on her tourist map. "Yup. I sure do."
"Could you tell me the best way to get there from here?"
"Eh, I think you just need to hit Market and jump on the F-Line train. It's $2.25."
She seemed confused by what I was saying, and having been there myself and not having anything better to do, I told her and the few other people that seemed to be going there I'd walk them down to show them the F-Line. I felt like a tour guide, which isn't a bad thing, but you never know what you're getting yourself into when you walk out of a hostile helping people get somewhere. Eventually they all got on the train, and we went around the City before I began my way back to the airport giving Kull a heads up.

"I'm on my way back to you. I should be in around 6:00, and likely to the Fly Away station by 7:30 PM." I texted. In the time that we shared over the last few months whether in Minnesota when she came home or California, we had become an item...a working couple making our relationship happen the best it could living separate in two different states. That was an unexpected but welcome transition into more than just dating. We were learning more about each other every time-some good and a few things that were different-and in all of it a better understanding of each other. Her new job stress had slowly started to go down as she began to understand the 'shit-show' of a job she had taken. It was challenging and different all of the time making it hard to actually be ahead of the ball. She needed a break, a well deserved one. A weekend get-away to San Francisco seemed fun and needed.

The office visit I made proved to be less of a success than I had hoped as it practiced NUCCA, a very specific approach to chiropractic that was not my cup of tea. It was nice to see my friends and the practice, but the offer was gonna have to be made to someone else. I was disappointed, but still optimistic that I would find what I needed soon. I wanted to get back to California for some basic reasons, it's warmer, and it was always my plan. Also, I wanted to have a more normal relationship with my short-stack or at least one where we could see each other more regularly.

October 24, 2014.    Two Days In San Francisco!

On our way up to the City, we worked on staying on the road and letting the other person drive! LOL. We clearly drove differently but essentially the same--fast, intentional, and periodically dangerously...just to keep it interesting. Getting to experience all sides of Kull was becoming more revealing for me this October trip because it was the longest period of time to that date we had spent together at one time. Twelve days less the two I spent in San Francisco earlier in the week. We laughed cause we knew we were going to learn real fast if we were gonna get along or not! Ha.Ha.Ha. What did come out of it was a better understanding of her needed time to herself. Our two or three day encounters were easier because the time was so much more valuable and needed to be used well. But, now, with more time to enjoy or to 'get away', all your 'best' sides are on the table because neither of us was going to be flying away the next day.

"How did you manage to get time to yourself when you lived with so-and-so?" I asked as the topic had come into conversation. "Well, Mr. M. usually let me take time to myself upstairs away from everyone." She said half laughing but still expressing some disbelief that she actually survived the environment as long as she had.

"So, did you just come back into socializing again later that day or how does that work for you??"
"It just depends. My girlfriends know when I need my time away, and they knew I'd be O.K. in a day or two and just leave me alone. That, or I'd just call'm when I was up to it. Ya know." In a half Minnesota accent.

I laughed just a little taking in her accent. She was definitely from Minnesota, and that was something I really valued in a girl I want to seriously get involved with followed by a healthy life-style in which she certainly had every base covered. When she wasn't coming out of a carido-Barre class, she was on her way into one of those specialty yoga studios like Modo. Actually, I think it really was a Modo because it was all she would talk about needing to find once she had made it to California. She weight-trained, ran, and sculpted her body in what seemed a constant stream of activities. All of this not so easily noticed under her work-gear, but in her work-out stuff, she was lean and strong.


"I guess it would be hard finding private time in a shared space with someone and his kids. Didn't that kinda freak you out?!...The kids part! It's like you were a second mom?" I asked really just trying to get her sentiment on anything related to kids. We had talked about it previously, but now with more familiarity with her and her former relationships, having a better understanding of what she was going to get out of those deals was of interest to me.

"Well....., Mr. M's kid's mother was really good about keeping them on schedule. He was not so concerned about it. I guess he wasn't all that concerned about other things either. What do I know, he ignored me most of the time." She said changing the topic to, "What else do you think we should do when we get to San Francisco?"

I got the hint, and just replied, "It depends on what we are gonna do with your uncles? I'm pretty sure it's gonna be too late to go out when we get there tonight, but maybe we can go out tomorrow night for a drink. Whatever the case, we'll have time to do whatever we want. All we have to do is leave around 3:00 PM on Sunday so we're not getting back into town too late. I can drive us back since you're driving us up. Cool?" "OoK." She said still keeping her eye on the road and DJing the music via her phone. The transition in the conversation left me wondering about that relationship and what had happened in it that nearly a year later was still making it a sensitive topic. 

"Hey, how do you feel about a morning run over the Golden Gate Bridge?" I asked her trying to get a loose idea of what would interest her and use our time well. She agreed, "Sure. I haven't been to SF in a long time. It'll be cool to see somethings and go some new places, and to see my uncles! I miss them." She said attempting to drive around the slower traffic on the road way. The drive to SF from LA is more or less 6.5-7.0 hours depending on any number of uncontrollable things. And only two hours into it, some small talk was good.

"Hell yeah! We can ride a Trolley Car. We can go to Fisherman's Warf. We can go to a bar in the Mission, and hang out with your uncles in the Castro, and maybe hit a few thrift shoppes." I said with some level of excitement that I was going to get to share with Kull some of places that I loved and enjoyed doing. I only share these types of places or activities with people that were special to me and were likely going to be around. Otherwise, I feel special places loose their value. Or worse, something goes wrong between you and that special person and now that place or activity becomes a reminder of that maybe uncomfortable part of your life. I learned to keep some of those things to myself over time, but I was going to a place full of special places with a special person, and it was time to share.

I had no sense what the upcoming months would be like for us largely because when I was with Kull time seemed to go away. The felt need to keep searching-the restlessness- had gone out of me when she was with me. It was the sign that I was exactly where and with whom I was supposed to be. I'm not sure how she felt about it, but I had good idea when she had in various instances referred to our relationship as having something special about it. "What we have is special?" I didn't know it then but in time I realized it was her way of telling me she was falling for me; she was opening up to me things about her that made her vulnerable to me, and more importantly, those little things made her mine and not just someone I was sharing. 

"I'm happy to meet more of your family." I said in a warm and thankful voice. "I love my uncles. They're so awesome and cute. They have rental places here, Palm Springs, Mexico, and some other places," she said remember things from her childhood days. I had only met her father a couple of times, and we seemed to get along great. Largely because he was loud and a straight shooter, and it seemed we shared that trait. I just like meeting the man behind the girl so I can see how best to take care of her, and to let him know I wasn't just another bee buzzing around his kid. Hahaha. It was subtle, but it was her way of showing me I was important to her. It was a soothing oil that only she could give me in her time and in her way.

At one point in the drive, she brought up how and when she met me and how she had no idea that I was even interested in her till I kissed her at the Burger Jones place! Lol. And even then, she said she still wasn't sure because my first impulse wasn't to pull her pants off!
"I knew we would get to that eventually, so I didn't feel like I needed to rush it." I said half laughing. According to her, she had a lot of experience in that arena of life, so making it a priority wasn't needed, and I didn't want to trigger the Midwest guilt complex that might've left me just another notch on her lipstick case or my belt. I really liked her and her simple way of doing things. I didn't just want our experience to be only physical. I wanted it to be everything it could be. Besides, I figured if it didn't happen here, maybe it would in Cali." I told her, "I figured when the moment was right, it would happen...naturally." She laughed at me. "It happened naturally alright." She said half sarcastically.

February 13, 2014.....St. Louis Park, Mn...Apartment painting.. Two weeks after meeting the first time at Starbucks.

Now following a small blue car, I rubbed my hands together trying to create some heat from the friction. The blower on my Jeep was still not functioning, and I would only get heat when the vehicle was moving. I did this purposely so as to not get too comfortable with being home in Mn and be motivated to get the hell out, again, as soon as the right job offer was on the table. I'd get an offer from time to time, but I didn't want to do slave labor and not have a life if I was gonna be in Cali. I needed enough money for my time so I could live. It didn't have to be glorious, but it needed to give me some time in the sun and have more healthy things to do around me. That way, I could try new stuff. Ya know...Things I'd only talked about doing but never got around to my last life in Cali. The time hadn't quite come yet, but the fact that the gal I was following was going to the same part of California that I knew gave me reason to pause. "Read the signs."

At the time, knowing she was leaving so much earlier, I wasn't sure if we would or should. She mentioned she had a "person" to help her out from time to time when we first met, and I don't compete with random dicks. I doubted if I should get involved with her at all! This was largely because of the, "What if" factor. What if it was the best sex I'd ever had?" What if, I actually liked her, then what? What if in our very little time together in Minnesota or when we meet up in California, we find we can't be without each other? For the first time in my life I doubted that I should get involved with a gal, which is not a rarity for me to not get involved for other reasons (like I've gotten very picky). The rarity for me is to have doubt and not get involved. "I suppose I was already planning to go to Cali sooner or later, so why the pause?" I thought now finding a place to park.

Making my way to the garage door that had just popped open, Kull stood waving me over. "Hi." She said with a smile and a shiver. It was cold and snowy...a combination that I was only fond of experiencing on a movie screen as of late. "Hey." I said lightly shaking off the cold from inside of my Jeep. "This is where I park my car, and this is where it crashed into the wall one day I forgot to put the emergency brake on." Now pointing to the back driver's side bumper/tire well. I laughed. "Forgot, eh?" "Well ya know, I might've had a late night!" She laughed out.

Entering her apartment, her cat meowed with his orange fluffy coat of hair, and then ran into some obscure place in the apartment. It was just after the Noon hour, and we were gonna, or at least I was gonna, get her bedroom back to a basic white color. It was something I could do well considering my early graduate school days of painting entire apartments within a few hours and managing to get a number of them done within a day. I thought it was a good gesture, and in my Mexican mentality, maybe show that I wasn't just a soft office doc that worked in Edina. "I can do things," I thought to myself half laughing only to have Kull catch me making her ask, "What?" In her soft and mildly raspy voice.

"So, let me give you a tour." She started saying as her cat ran by seemingly out of nowhere. This is the bathroom...the living room with a double-sided chase lounger sofa, a few random Ikea shelves, and my flat screen TV and a variety of decorations. This is the bedroom," She went on pointing out the obvious color change from the bland off-color white hallway to the very dark blue. "I like the color," I said half laughing at how much paint it would actually take to get it close to normal. We made it to the kitchen where she offered me a water, wine, or smoothie option. Accepting the water, I found a place to sit at her table noticing the lack off actual food in the refrigerator...cause as a guy, I instinctually went right to the refrigerator door and opened it. 
"You keep a lot a food around, eh?" Laughing as she politely admitted, "I'm not a great cook, so I made things kinda ala cart." She said half uncertain if she should join me or sit in the living room or what. It was funny to watch.

"How about we let the Bunny's food settle a little, and watch a little bit of the T.V., and then we can get started on the painting job you got going on." I said recollecting the bed height being slightly higher than one might imagine for a gal that was almost 5'0" tall. I smiled. We sat next to each other warming up slightly from the cold and attempting to enjoy the others presence without it becoming too awkward considering we hadn't been physical beyond the first kiss I planted on her just over a week ago. We were immediately into whatever was on the tube. Whatever it was kept us laughing a bit, and then time seemed to move slower almost to a standstill. It was a sensation that I had only experienced once before. It was the sensation that the person I was sitting next to I had know all my life, and that at this moment as if stuck in a day dream, I was just coming back into the present. Except it was the present. "Strange." I thought.

Eventually, I got up and decided to get the painting project going so as to not get stuck in the upcoming snowfall projected for that night. As we poured paint, and took off socket covers, the project seemed to go really smooth apart from the periodic paint I'd get on my elbow or she'd get on her face from touching random spots that looked dry. It could've been a clown show by the time we got most of it done considering we had to move the dresser and the nearly ceiling high post bed around to get behind it. Yup. I was feeling pretty content to be helping her do something and listen to her talk about how she planned on having some of her friend's parents come in to help her pack so they could say good-bye and everything else that came with it. I'm sure she had plenty of people to say good-bye to, and why she was not having them help her do this part wasn't too much of a mystery to me, but at the same time, I had to wonder.

As she moved around the room and made funny comments and at times noises from having got a difficult spot painted, I felt calm. The sensation that I didn't want to have to leave came over me. It wasn't that I was lonely. I was far from it, but in all of my life's complexity something was lacking; something that seemed to be waking ever so much so as to notice it in those moments. We finished what we could and then started getting the paint put away and the brushes cleaned off. By now, it was almost just after 3:00 PM and the dark was descending. She sat on her chase lounge chair as I cleaned up in her bathroom. I joined her for a moment not sure if I should just go or stay a bit longer. This is when it almost got awkward, and so as to avoid it, I started to leave.

I think this is when she would later say that she wasn't sure if I was actually physically interested in her because I almost left. But, before I got more than a few feet away from her, I turned around and went back over to her. I got on my knees and inched my way closer to her as she sat in her lounger. This brought us essentially eye-to-eye. I reached over to her and pulled her gently toward me so I could kiss her for the second time. "Thank God I didn't walk out." I thought because now was the time. It was likely the paint fumes in the apartment that made the experience seem so much more deep and connecting, but, again, I lost track of time. Before I knew it, we had passed out next to each other and the time read something past 7:00 PM. "Shit. I have to get ready for work tomorrow...do laundry, etc." I said not so much in a rush or with a high level of priority, but just a matter of fact. 

I got my clothes together and got ready. She wrapped herself up in a multi-colored blanket and let me out of the apartment, thanked me for helping her paint and spending the afternoon with her. "Can I call you this week or meet up with you again before you get too busy moving? I asked. She smiled and hugged me saying, "Yes." I kissed her one last time, and walked myself out into the snow. The experience stuck with me for days during which we talked for bits of time, and eventually meet up again. It was in this time that she admitted to me, "It was good. It was really good, and I'm not just sayin it because of my experience." I wasn't sure I should feel good about myself or wonder what it really meant! LOL. In either case, it lead to more time with her before she got in her little car with her "big handed" besty and started driving West. 

October 24th, 2014 San Francisco Trip....Approaching The Bay Area Nearly Midnight.

"There's a little bit of time that I do want to spend writing in my journal." I said uncertain if it was gonna actually happen. If it did, I wanted at least an hour to write down stuff that had been happening between us. I also wanted to reminisce about days past, and how now I was again where I wanted to be."OooK." She said with a tone of uncertainty and a slight touch of wanting to participate. "Well I'm sure we can slip away and find somewhere I can work with on some things with you." Kull said a little softer emphasizing the 'we'. "I'm not sure if I want to be alone for this bit of time," I thought but actually said, "I'm sure we can work something out." I reached over and touched her hand and eventually grabbed it softly and held it for a few moments before she shifted gears. It was my way of showing her I she was important, and a simple way to affirm her if I felt in her voice, she needed it because every now and then she did. 

The long-ass drive up to San Francisco had brought out the 'best' in us, and just a little time to re-set was good. We talked about a few work things. We went over a couple of things that had come up in our relationship that were seemingly out from other ones in our pasts. We talk about how we had escaped the Minnesota lie...that you actually like being depressed half of the year because of NO sunlight, freezing temperatures, ice and snow only to enjoy a hand full of sunny days and things on a stick. We thought about things we wanted to do on upcoming trips, when I thought I would actually make the drive back, and how we would spend the upcoming time. We didn't seem to care as long as it was gonna be something new, and we could do it together. It became more real when she cut me a blue key to her place so I could come and go as needed but also a place to leave a few things to ease up the need to travel with too many things. Yup. Life was good and getting better.

The weekend went by fast. After a few drinks with her uncles in the kitchen we were off to sleep only to wake up early enough to drive over to and actually run over the Golden Gate bridge. It was fun, a bit chilly, and it felt like being home there with her. I could've sworn the wind was so strong on the way back it nearly moved her in mid-air as she ran forward! Fortunately, it the wind came in waves giving her enough time to scoot back in towards the middle of the run way versus the edge. When it was over, we were both cold from the blowing wind but wet from sweating after the 4.2 mile run. The Golden Gate is longer than you might think when you cross over on foot versus being in car. In either event, it's a beautiful picture spot with lots of history waiting to tell it's story. We yapped a bit about it before we left to head back into the Castro for a cup of coffee and some breakfast with her uncles, an eventual thrift store tour, and more City touring via mass transit for the experience of it.  Sunday came with a little bit of sadness that we were leaving the City, but that it was actually a fun night of drinking some in the Mission and chilling out like the locals do on a Saturday night. Chilling and having a drink or two was something we did well especially if the people watching is good. Hahaha. We managed to stop in where I finished graduate school in San Jose and see where it was I had spent the first few years of my time in California before I was swept South for a training job I took for a multinational. We hugged. We laughed. We likely disagreed about a few things, but we ultimately walked forward hand in hand oblivious to the time or space we were in. 

February 13, 2015 Date Night: Dinner & A Show.

Driving up the PCH, I made my way to Zuma Beach where Kull had wanted to meet me for a short run before we retreated to her favorite place in Malibu, Ollie's. I got ready in my rental car stripping off my dress clothes and pulling on my running gear. Kull text me she was on her way into the canyon via Kanon. Normally I would've just gone there , to her apartment, but there was something going on in her tone with me that really implied she wanted to be with me when I was there, so I waited for her by the beach. "I guess." I thought. It had become a norm in the January trips out to visit, but I had in part agreed to it. I was in town a day earlier than my normal visit schedule because our date night was supposed to happen on this Thursday. It turned out there was some ticket scamming going on that lead to a Friday night date instead, which actually worked out much better than we planned so we could drive into L.A. together versus separately because of timing.

I saw her car pass, and I readied my music player for just the right moment. When she came into view, I started my Snapchat video so that Berlin's Take My Breath Away started to play as she approached. I laughed at how well it worked, but in my head, and actually in real-time, it was exactly what was happening in my life. My girl, Kull, finally made it and was in my real life video as well as my Snapchat one. It couldn't have happened any cleaner, but when she got close enough, she asked, "What are you doing?" I laughed. I'm making a video! Hahaha." She was slightly annoyed but got it. We marched off to get the run in, and we talked about how the next night, Date Night, was gonna go. It was our first actual date that involved more than just getting a bite and a drink somewhere local. We were gonna get dressed up. We were gonna grab dinner at a nice place, and unlike anything we had done, we were going to see WICKED. She was excited about the whole thing. 

My normal entry into and eventually out of Los Angeles happens on late night flights that would gradually bring me up into the Valley to Kull's place. Having the blue key was really for these moments so she could go to sleep when she needed, and I could slip into the apartment and hopefully into bed without waking her. It worked 50% of the time, but in either event, I would lay eyes wide open trying to fall asleep. The excitement of being back in warmer weather was second to my content in seeing my sweet girl. She'd wake briefly to give me a kiss and then mumble a few things passing out just a few inches from me holding my arm. I loved that part, but I also love the part that following most mornings-where we'd just wake gradually taking each other in and being lazy for a few minutes only to rush and get ready to leave her place at the same time. Otherwise, she was up doing some beach body workout just after 5:30 AM. I arranged my client meetings in the mid AM hours to avoid some traffic but also not have any reason to stay in her apartment after she left. 

"Morning. How'd you sleep? I don't remember you getting into bed at all." She said while I laughed a bit giving her a play-by-play of the event.
"I guess that sleep herbal stuff I'm taking is working pretty good. I've been using it to get some rest because I've been really wound up these last few weeks." She said still partly waking. 
"I see. How about I get you a coffee and a bite at Starbucks when you're ready?" Now getting up to help make the bed, which just turn into me making the bed. I guess she let me do so I could feel I was being helpful because she always said she loved having it made! Ha.

As she readied, I did my normal ritual of not getting in her way while I got my bag organized for the day. I was likely not gonna make it back before she was home from work or just in case I got tied up in L.A. on the wrong side of traffic. Checking the cupboards for something to eat in between things, I took notice of the really nice bottle of RUM she had gotten from one of her friends parents that she was saving for a special occasion that apparently had come. I didn't say anything to her so she didn't think I was looking for "reasons," but I noticed it had gotten some attention since my last visit just two weeks prior. "Not a big deal, " I thought and dismissed it attempting to get the trash together for take out on our way down to the cars.

"How's your work day looking?" I asked hoping to get a close time she would be out of work so we could make our dinner reservation at Beso on Hollywood Boulevard . You needed reservations to get into anything in Hollywood or having a connection. Fortunately for me, I was able to get a reservation at the right hour just before our show at the Pantages to see Wicked began. 
"I should be able to get here by 4:00 PM. And then I'll need about an hour to get ready. Is that enough time to make it on time for our dinner reservation?" She asked mildly nervous because of the traffic to Los Angeles at that time. "I'm sure we will be fine. We might need to use your navigation skills if that's cool!?" I said laughing because it was her use of her navigation app call WAZE that she used to get everywhere being new to the area. "OK. I can do that!" She said with a smile walking toward the door with me. "See you shortly." I said making my way to my rental to catch up with her at Starbucks. 

This was our morning routine if it didn't involve some last minute intimacy, but that part of our relationship had become more of an 'as needed' basis activity. Some of it I understood, but the rest of it, the part that was permeating in the recesses of her person I would soon discover. 'Date night' was my idea to have some fun, change things up, and to get 'out" like most people, and maybe rekindle the spark we seemed to have lost in the previous months. More importantly, it was just another chance at having a good positive experience that was argument-free. "Yes. It'll be good. No expectations." I thought as she drove off after a light hug and brief kiss.

When she arrived from work, fresh cut flowers were on the table in her vase. I was slightly napping, but ready to get going when she was. "How was work?" I asked in an almost mumble. "Eh, I'm glad to be out today. Nurses are ridiculous!" She said undressing while starting the shower. "How was your meeting today?" It was good. Seemed positive and productive. If it works out, I could be working the next town up as soon as April." I said noticing her pause a bit by my saying it was just up the road. "I should be ready by 5:00 PM." She said. "Cool. I'll get a few things I need from my car. Before I new it, we were off and on our way into L.A.

As traffic will do to you, I drove a little intensely because we were pushing our show time and dinner reservation. In the end of the hour drive, we were both a little flustered, Kull because she didn't like when I drove aggressively, and me because I didn't understand what her Waze app was trying to do. I would later get the app and figure it out, but till then I left the navigating to her. "We made it." We said virtually at the same time letting some of the tension behind now that we were within a block of the Show and in front of the place we were about to have a few drinks and dinner. Beso was the name of the place that you would never notice during the daylight hours, but it stood out at night with red neon lettering against the off-white painted walls. 

Entering the place, we were sat almost immediately which was great because my next move was to find the 'john' and let another stress contributor go! LOL. She did the same and we finally sat and relaxed and took in the scenery. The place was amazing with 30 foot ceilings, people that were clearly 'out' on the town, and us. For a moment, I took in the scenery wondering how the rest of the night would go without guessing..."It will go great. It will be positive. We will have fun. She will find relief." I thought as I saw her approaching from the short distance. In that moment, the piano cords from Pink's tune Just Give Me A Reason started to play. I was happy to be there. More importantly, I was happy to be there with Kull. We had shared a lot of real life things between us in our few short months, but in it the very discovery of what to do now had become a real obstacle that I had hoped was just a bend in our relationship and not us being broken. All I needed was a reason. A sign. 

We ordered and eventually got to normal talk. I attempted to steer our conversation clear of potentially negative topics or even sensitive ones because it was date night, and like other outings we had been on with friends and other people, we could have a great time keeping it light. We eventually finished and left for the show. We held hands, which in that moment felt great. When we were actually together, we functioned and got-along perfectly after some warming up. In our absence is when things would build up in the silence that started to cloud our communicating and the over-thinking that came with it on both our parts quiet honestly. But, a good time was what we were shooting for, and we actually got to it.

After the first ACT, finding a drink of water or anything was in order. The show was captivating and really did express a very different side of the story to the Wicked Witch Of The West. As it turned out, it-wickedness-was put upon the green skinned gal that by all measures of being a human being needed affection and affirmation but couldn't find it because an obvious problem--she was green. I could, as I'm sure many other people did, identify with what she was feeling in my own childhood desire to be accepted into the group and not be the last one chosen for teams or even invited out to do stuff after school; she needed to be accepted for who she was, and in the end was willing to give up everything she knew to have it. It made me think of a few things Kull had brought up in our conversations over time on her belief that men, or boys as they were in those days, didn't really find her attractive or want her, "They wanted to be friends...until one day, they didn't." I would often laugh at this because she by all measures was an attractive woman and likely more so in her younger days. She was the captain of her high school and college cheer leading teams. She was buff. She was funny. But, in all of it, she had insecurities that would surface from time to time. I suppose we're all human more on some days than others. When the show let out, we made our way to a local pub, and had one more cocktail before making the journey North to her place. We had a Valentine's Day picnic to prep for in the AM and a parting with an odd but intricate part of her life-Fake Baby.

February 14, 2015 Valentines Day Picnic Morning.....The Good Will, etc....

Sometime before Kull left the Cities, her girlfriends or one of them threw her a "Fake Baby" shower and gifted her this life-size and super life-like baby. She brought it with her from Minnesota as a keep-sake, but in the last couple of months it was the source of deep remorse and sorrow. I knew about the history it reminded her of our passing discussion of things that were presently affecting our relationship. As she said, the one girlfriend never knew about her actual relational history with Mr. M. or how the relationship had ended. What she seemed to know was that Kull had a higher level of turn over in her relationships and was likely not gonna find one that would actually end up in what we traditionally think people should be at in their life..as in married (or I suppose divorced) with a few kids, career, etc., etc. This I thought was a funny thing to have between all of the girls as most of them had actually gone through the regular life rituals and tried to keep in contact with each other and remember what it was like to be in 'high school'. LOL. Really, I think they just like vicariously living their 'old days' through Kull the gal that still had it, was attractive and dating. I guess. 

Before I came into town, Kull had discussed with me how we needed to get rid of Fake Baby because her original plan was to send him to the dumpster. "Oh, hun. Someone will get some use of that guy if we bring it to the Good Will. Why don't we do that the morning of our picnic?" She agreed. When we woke, I made sure I put Fake Baby in a bag in the trunk of the car. When we were ready, we made our way over to the Good Will to find a Frisbee and maybe some other beach fun stuff. When the time came, I put him on the counter and managed to get a pic of them together for the last time. Instantly a woman wanted to know if he was for sale. We both laughed but then left the store a little quiet.

"I suppose we better make it over to Orchard's and find a cooler for our cold stuff to stay cold on the beach!?" I said making lite of the situation and trying to get Kull back into the moment. She was sad.
When we arrived to the hardware and garden store, I noticed something odd about Kull's pants as we were getting ready to exit the car. "Hey, what happended?" Pointing at her paints. Without her knowing it, her water jug must've opened slowly leaking onto her pants giving the look as thought she managed to not hold it in. We busted out laughing! "Nice job. Nice job.!"
We not only found a cooler, but ran into the guy she first rented the guesthouse from when she first moved to the area. It was funny. Eventually, a 24 pack of water, a couple of bags of ice, and a cooler later, we were off to the car. It was getting hot out as was about to our conversation.

As had been the situation in most of the time, Kull's phone pinged with a new message. 'Oh, It's my friend 'Tom' from high school messaging me. He said he was gonna be in my town and wanted to know if I wanted to meet up for a drink." She said in a mildly smart-ass manner. "And, no I've never been involved with him that way. We used to see each other at parties, but that was it. I wasn't into him at all." She mentioned. She did this for one simple reason. When we were working out our trust issues, I requested that she tell me, because there was always some guy she had just talked to, or messaged her, etc., if it was someone she had been involved with in the past. I wanted her to tell me whether or not they had been involved so she might get an idea of how uncomfortable the truth of it was for the person she was involved with. She was reluctant to do it, but eventually she agreed. "I'm not gonna ask you to do it any prolonged period of time, but when I'm around or you mention one of your guy friends, I just want to know." I said. I wanted her to know I was likely gonna be uncomfortable with them, but more importantly, I wanted her to see how many of those people she really had just milling around, "hovering" as it is and let her conclude for herself that she needed to keep some distance or some really clear lines.

"That's great. I guess. When is he coming into town?" I asked. "Tuesday, I think." She said flipping through the message. "So, your guy friend, looked you up on Facebook and wondered if you were free to meet up? How did he even know you were here?" I asked knowing that the only way was to want to find her. There is no town search for a lost friend you happen to remember you partied with in high school on FB. I didn't say any of that, but what I did say was, "Well I guess I should mention that I'm going out with a gal on Monday that I also know from Facebook." She was instantly argumentative. "Fil, this isn't a tit for tat game." She said, and I understood it, and had no intention of playing games. "I met her at Starbucks before I left Cali to do that follow up surgery that I never got to do. She sent me a facebook friend request, kinda like your gym trainer friend, and I accepted it because I couldn't remember who she was thinking because three of my family members are friends with her that she was a family person." Attempting to explain what had happened. "She works for a skin product company and wanted to know what I knew about it, and see if I might be interested in selling. That's all. I'm meeting her at Noon for a coffee." I said to calm the situation, but it already had sparked a different emotion from Kull-jealousy...a drug that was killing us like that Animal tune
by Maroon 5.

"That's a lot different than what your high school buddy seems to want to do, so I figured since you told me that I would also tell you because I hadn't even thought about it till now." She was quiet as we drove back to her place to get all the things that we needed. Upon entering the place and getting things ready, she came over to me, turned me slightly so as to be able to reach my face, and started to kiss me. This was a surprise. Kull had not been one lick affectionate with me since I had arrived the other day beyond holding my hand and embracing me slightly. In fact, she had told me she was, "closed" to that kind of activity with me because she was struggling emotionally with all things related to her fake baby and her former relationship with Mr. M. But, in that moment, all of those distances had disappeared. I reciprocated because I was in need of some kind of affection from her. Before I knew it, we dropped what we were doing and were going into it..a love session that I hadn't seen much of in the last few visits. Our heated discussion had turned into hot love making session that ended as it always had when we participated--amazing.

It was true. It was hot almost every time. It didn't matter what had or hadn't happen in the prefix to our relating that instant or any other. When that part of our beings turned on, we understood each other clearly, deeply, and without hesitation. We never worried about pregnancy or other related issues. We had used a natural methodology that I learned in my earlier days that was as good as gold and had been our primary method of birth control till then. I trusted her to give me accurate start and stop dates for her cycle with any fluctuations, and she trusted me to use that information to make sure we didn't have to worry, and we didn't especially after a full year of success. It wasn't even close to that 'sensitive' time of the month. Not to mention all of the marathon running and training. Her getting pregnant under those conditions would have to be something short of the Almighty intervening again-the first time He did that, Jesus made the scene! LOL.

So we carried on losing track of time while enjoying moment long as we could and actually needed. When it was over, we continued to ready for the day and made our way out to the car. Her tone had changed. She was open to me and much more attentive to what I was doing and what we needed to do to get things done. We left taking her car in case parking was tight. The mustang was too long to park comfortably anywhere. We were off to spend a day at the beach, drink, and be merry with a few of the girlfriends she had that were local. My guy friends had 'obligations' considering the day. The day at the beach we couldn't get straight, "Roy Wilkin's or Will Roger's" as it really was had a good number of people on it. The part that was tricky was finding Kull's friend 'Julie' on it somewhere because she had beat us to the beach! When we did arrive, getting the spread out for the day and all things related to making a few adult beverages was in play. "Turns out Fil is a lush!" Laughing at my apparent in ability to keep a few of my words straight. "I guess so." I laughed. "I can totally put them down, but I usually don't. I find that next day 'not feeling so great' feeling could be used to do something more productive." Mildly laughing again. It seemed to surprise Kull for some reason, but I guess we never really drank that much considering one or both of had to usually drive. When it was over, Kull had spent some walk time with the girls where I know our relationship status was a point of interest. The girls seemed to know we had gone through a few ruff patches, but there we were for at least a little while longer. It always made me wonder, but in all of it, I just wanted was a little more of my Sugar.
                                   
The next day was somewhat different. We had to run. She had an appointment somewhere near Venice Beach were we would eventually meet up and run a 16 miler. Admittedly, I was quiet when I arrived so as to not provote a negative mood, but the difference was noticed by Kull that at that moment was "feeling" great. As we ran, various things would come up that seemed to require managing of some sort, which was the last thing I wanted to deal with considering, but we discussed. We argued. We continue to run mile after mile likely making both of us more crabby as we crossed the 10 mile mark all the way till we made it back....16 miles later. By then, not only were we too tired to be tense, we were hungry. Both of us knowing this, we agreed to keep quiet till we got food in our mouths. Sounds funny, but it was a serious deal at the time. Eventually, when we ate, and got it down, we left to make the long drive home. She needed some work done on her muscles, and needed some bones moved. All things I knew how to do and loved to, but first it was getting past tension.

"Hey. I'm sorry we are arguing. I didn't fly out here to argue with you about anything. The marathon is just a few weeks away, and I'm only gonna see you one other time in between now and then." I said in a moderately soothing voice. She made her case for things, but what needed to happen was some stretching. Eventually, it would turn into some make-up sex time that was needed on both our parts. Normally, we would go to karaoke together, or I would on my own if she needed to go to bed early, but the run had taken it out of me as she had literally and figuratively . We watched a show on the tube and at more food. "We'll make it work." She said in her soft voice stating her obvious concerns about me seeing her girlfriends for her birthday weekend, which still didn't make sense to me at the time but would become obvious to me in the weeks that followed.

Monday came before we knew it. We slept hard and deeply. This was a good thing, and one we got to experience the more days I was with her. We socialized some in the AM, and made dinner plans after she got in her after work work-out. I accounted how the coffee had gone with the gal from the skin care company, and she recanted how the labor union guy was still a complete dick. Yup. The day had rounded out to be just fine. At the end of it, as was my custom by this many trips out, I kissed her good night and made my way to the airport around 11:00 PM making it just on-time to catch the red-eye flight home to begin work for the week. We had, for the most part, connected, and it was enough for me to wait....and not just to roll.

It wasn't until two trips in January that I finally understood what Zepplin was taking about in his song.. The actual lyrics to Stairway to Heaven made sense. After these years of listening to the same song as I 'drove to Santa Monica for karaoke, the lyrics never hit me. In all of our mis-communication, we were still connected and trying to hold one to those fleeting beliefs that we had found someone special...someone that understood the other for exactly who they were regardless of what had happened in their life. Instead of running-literally and figuratively with and from each other, we, or at least, I needed to not walk away. Not yet. It was more obvious at the end of my second January trip.

January 25, 2015, A Second Weekend of Prospecting & Relationship Building...

January was a semi-cold month in Minnesota, but still too cold to marathon train. It was part of my excuse to not commit to the marathon that Kull decided to sign up for after her inspirational run in the T.C. 10 Miler run. It was the longest she had ever run. I wanted to be supportive of her and activities that helped us do things together that were healthy, so I would train with her every time I flew into L.A. to job prospect. I had always said if I could get up to at least 16 miles without injury, I would sign up for the race and run it with her. If I couldn't run, I was gonna be there with signs cheering her on along the way.

We ran a long mile runs that usually went up every week by 10-15%. Now, the second week in January, we had run 12 miles and were trying to spend a leisurely Sunday having fun. It was needed. Our relationship had gotten stressed and our solution, or a proposed solution by Kull was to have more 'face-time'. This started out as phone time, but eventually gave way to actually being real time spent with her as she said she needed to feel we could grow. It was a point of contention as it was me that was investing the time and resources to maintain the relationship versus her. But, she did have a point, "I didn't move to California to have to fly home to date someone." It was true, and she did come home for Christmas where we had a really good time together when she wasn't out with her family and girlfriends. It was easy, fun, and we felt we had been able to overcome some of the matters we were working on. Now, a second weekend of sharing time was about 90/10 good energy.

Most of these differences had went unnoticed till we actually started seeing each other more regularly because according to Kull, the once every 3-4 weeks hadn't been cutting it. Staying longer than a few days eventually gave way to her sensation that I was invading her space even though it was what she stated was need for our forward motion. Yeah. I was confused too. It wasn't like this when we started out. We were cool cucumbers that couldn't find enough time to be with each other. So when did that start to change for her..for us? I guess it's a double sided answer that began with an accumulation mild 'friend', trust, and privacy matters that turned a routine 'clean up my mess' discovery of things I'm sure she had no intention of me seeing. I say the 'me' part because it became a question in my mind that never really found resolve a few months earlier.

November 14, 2014 Starbucks on Moorpark Boulevard, Thousand Oaks, CA

Now and then, I would do some paperwork processing on Kull's MAC, which I was hesitant to use because I was less familiar with the OS on it than my PC, but in order to not have to check bags, I would often leave my laptop home, and ask if I could use hers. It was fine, and I was by and large respectful of her stuff. I would download forms, load them onto my thumb-drive and go to a FedEx Kinko's and print what I needed. As was my usual customary clean up, I would erase all of my documents from the trash, the desk top, and the downloading box. "No big deal." I thought but found in the months that followed the discovery of things that brought all of my insecurities to the forefront of my processing mind.

"O.K. Hun. I'm gonna walk out with you and get you a coffee before you head out to work. May I use your MAC to get a few things downloaded and ready for print this morning?"
She said, "Sure." And we were off. We would pretend to race the entire one mile from the apartment to the Starbucks parking lot, and then walk-in holding hands finally recognizing people that worked there or that she knew from her gym. "Decaf Chai Latte" was her drink of choice where I would get a regular drip coffee with room so I could add cream and one packet of brown sugar. She'd be nice and sit a bit and chit-chat, and periodically comment on how she got a reusable Starbucks cup "because of all the cups going into landfills. It kinda gives me anxiety!" She say half laughing but on Que every time the topic came up. It was these types of things that made her cute and down-to-Earth and made me want to be around her all the more especially when we'd drive by her original exit road, RANCHO, which would lead her to spit it out like a commercial. It cracked me up. We'd laugh about it momentarily, and when the moment was right, she make a short escape to work--no pun intended!

As I began working and got all of the email accounts I needed up, I started downloading what I needed. I was virtually instant, but being it was a MAC, I had to figure out where the downloads had gone. More important, I needed to know how to erase them. Not that I cared she had the information, but I didn't want my SS numbers and other company information floating around in case she got hacked or her MAC got stollen. So, I would customarily delete them out of the trash can. That day, I had to field a few phone calls and confirm office visits and addresses for my Google mapping.

When I finally got around to it, Kull's MAC, a strange phenomenon started to occur.
Periodically, a message flashed across the screen. I didn't know what they were at first, but as I started to read them because they were going right across the screen, I figured out it was Kull sending messages and receiving messages from her girlfriends and a few other interesting, local unidentified numbers (805 to Thousand Oaks and the surrounding area as much as 612 is to Mpls.). I did what I thought I should do, and I text Kull immediately to let her know what was happening.

"Hey hun. I'm on your MAC, and it seems your phone messages are coming through on your MAC screen. I'm just telling you so you don't think I was digging around in your computer." I texted while continuing to read the messages crossing the screen till they stopped going out by her.

"You opened my FB messenger!" She texted me emphatically. I replied stating to her exactly what had happened. I had not actually opened up her messenger till a particular message from a person asked what she was up to this weekend. Then, I couldn't help myself but click on it as it floated by to see what else had been said. I was likely some gym friend or guy friend from Mn that she was talking to, and I could've cared less, but when the 'funny, haha' sex toned comment was in the conversation. I lost it, and I called her and told her, "I didn't go into your messenger. These messages just started to cut across the screen. I clicked on one of them because clearly the nature of the text was sexual. I'll show you what I mean when you get home. Trust me. I wasn't trying to do any snooping on your MAC." I said trying to convince her it wasn't my doing but also expressing my high-level of WTF!

I deleted all of my downloads and proceeded to let her know we needed to have a talk when she was free after work. I'm sure this wasn't what she wanted to hear, but likely knew it was inevitable. In our earlier, more nonchalant days of our dating, I didn't care about her past because I really wasn't in a position to and really didn't care because it was the past. I suppose I was accepting of it because of my own past, and somehow that seemed to allow us a deeper appreciation for each other. She was leaving for another state that I wasn't going to be getting to soon enough. Our agreement was simple.. "If you're free when I come into town, and I'm free, let's get together. If you find someone you want to get together with, just let me know, so I can plan accordingly." We would laugh about it, but quietly, in our own persons we wanted more than just that. That being the case, the agreement gave her freedom to "Be Me" as she would often say, and that's what kept her coming back to me trip after trip. Now after a few months of going for a more official status, it seemed that her past or present was starting to creep up from different places. Maybe it had been happening all along, but I didn't know because I had trusted her to handle those things till I felt I needed to ask, and today was a day I needed to ask...again.

When she arrived home, I sat attempting to be pleasant and not tense, but she could tell I was.
I made small talk with her to bring down the tension in the room, but it wasn't working. She was angry. I had her open her MAC and see for herself what had happened.
"Open it. Text one of the many friends you seem to be messaging all times of the day that has an I-phone." So she did.
To her surprise, "Her message streamed by on the top of her MAC. " Her girlfriend's response did the same. Kull was shocked, and I could tell embarrassed because she knew what other things had been communicated to her by other people that were plain to see, but also because I clicked on one of the floating messages and the entire conversation had popped up. She, to my relief, was not propagating the incoming 'come-on's' but it was clear that boundries had not been set either.

We were tense for the rest of the day, and as had come up in one similar circumstance, it brought the need to potentially consider moving on from the relationship because this had not only caused the girl to not trust me, but it also gave me reason to ask who else was out there...how many 'men' were hovering around her waiting. Something one takes into consideration when wanting to have a serious girlfriend, and we did have a more serious relationship, but it had become weighted with insecurities because of these very things. "I guess when I loaded an update to my iPhone, it must've synchronized the two-my MAC and iPhone." She said now understanding that it wasn't me. "But you did open my messenger!" She was right. I had clicked on the one that opened the whole thing and that entire conversation, and I'm glad I did.

I had gotten over one other lack of understanding situations with her and people of the opposite sex, but it seemed there was just a steam of them, which meant one of two things. It was not a big deal, and it was me 'making mountains out of molehills' as she would often say. Or, is it a subtle underlying problem. I trusted her enough, but it made me question her more, and she felt it. At one point even before this one, one of her X-boyfriends that she had openly admitted to still talking to, "Don Nelson," in their not so frequent communicating still had feelings and wanted to get back together with her. She had told him that she was uncomfortable with those types of dialogs, but she didn't really tell him to stop either. It was one of the instances that I felt the need to question what the nature of that friendship was, and if it was really necessary to keep that person around.

"He's part of my emotional support network.!" She spat out me in the midst of dealing with the messages and senders. "I guess that makes it really hard to have a full relationship with you when you're keeping an ex-boyfriend around for an emotional supporter! I don't think you realize you are jeopardizing your actual relationship with me by maintaining that other one. It's either gonna be me or him in the long run!" I said emphatically.
"He's got a girlfriend!" She said in her defense and justification of why he was still in her life.
"Do you think the girlfriend he's telling you would actually be comfortable with the nature of your friendship?! I don't think so. I bet he doesn't even have a girlfriend and just tells you he does so you will "allow" him to hover around you so you can tell me the same thing. I know what we can do. When you come home for Christmas, because it was part of our agreement, lets all meet: his girlfriend, him, and us." I said this knowing it was never gonna happen, but also to make my point--it was inappropriate person to having milling around the periphery of your relationship. That, and I just wanted to meet these people full well knowing that the minute they actually meet a girl's boyfriend, they either try harder or they walk away because reality has a way of setting in when real people are in front of you...especially one like me.

Maybe, no one had said this to her before. I had to wonder, but I was pissed either way. Our solution, which was short-lived, was to have her inform me when they needed to talk. I stopped asking after a month because I actually didn't care that much about it. I guess she needed these types of people around, and ultimately, I had to trust her, and eventually I did again. I stopped asking her anymore about anybody after a couple of trips out.

I wondered if this was part of the reason she wanted to change her life by moving away from our Home Land. She seemed to have a hard time cutting people off even if they crossed boundaries. But then again, if there's never been a boundary, how is one supposed to enforce it. Like most Minnesotians, we're passive aggressive. We want you to make a decision we really want you to make so we don't look like the bad guy--but you do. But, if you don't tell people, "NO," they just 'hover' around waiting for the right moment to send you a note, a text, or show up to see if something might happen. I knew this, and trying not to become overly protective but still mildly jealous and let her handle things. This was hard, and it had just become more difficult with these new people showing up. Something about her was more important to me than the insecurity of theses types of things, but still, not appropriate. She seemed genuine when she made her case about it, and part of me believed her. The part of me that didn't, I would have to manage because it was at times threatening, accusatory, and it was cold remembered everything.  But, we managed to agree to get over things for a little while. I agreed I would not use her computer without her physically being there so she could regain control of her privacy and related things at some point.

Tuesday January 27, 2015 Edina, Minnesota-Another day in the life..

Leaving Kull and flying back into the Home Land was a little easier with the increased frequency. By all practical means, you couldn't tell I didn't live there. It was like most executive relationships where I had to be away for business a week or two at a time. The already arranged trips out out to marathon weekend in March made my life semi-programmable. The trips were space so she had a couple of weekends to herself to work on her social activities, and so I had time to work, rest from training, and prep for the next round of interviewing and client prospecting all while managing the clinic I was in charge of in Edina. The clinic owner that was my client was an old graduate school friend that found my resume floating around when I had first come back to Minnesota for what was supposed to be a follow-up cancer removing surgery. I provided services, and he would pay me on an open ended agreement. In all of this, I had created a fairly efficient way of getting back and forth, and the part that was key was staying with Kull. It was the part of our sharing in the relationship costs that she provided, even thought it was her own cost whether I was there or not.

As most red-eye flights got me into MSP Terminal 1 just after 6:00 AM, I usually make my way to wherever I left my Jeep and made my way home essentially to get ready for the day. I'd hit the gym in between to stretch from the airplane ride. Then, I'd grab lunch and walk into the office within hours of landing. Usually I was exhausted by the end of these days, but today I had a little extra energy.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a Facebook note from Kull acknowledging one of the smaller things I enjoyed doing for her getting her fresh flowers for her dining table. Every time I came in, it was obvious the last set had gotten close to lasting nearly to my return trip. So, when she was off at work or by the end of the day, I would pick some up along with whatever dinner we were going to cook if we cooked in that night. She rarely posted anything about us on Facebook, but when she did, the validated was welcome. It was these gestures that gave the impression she was still "in" and giving back to our relationship in her own way energizing me to stick to it, and actually get to it and get back to her and California.

My days were essentially all the same. I worked three-four days per week with one floating paperwork catch up day. In between there, I worked on marathon training, going through my stuff attempting to decide if it was actually something I needed helping me keep a minimalist lifestyle so when the day came, I could stick what I had left into my Jeep and leave. The need to have an ever ready-to-leave life-style kept me from signing leases that were longer than three months at a time. It was a familiar lifestyle to me that I had enjoyed while living in West Hollywood up until I moved in with my former MN nurse girlfriend-Missy. If my work drive changed or I had to switch my client services to a new city, I would just move. It also meant that I needed to rent furnished places. And although it's convenient, there's something to be said about owning your own stuff.

Now approaching a second year with the same client, I wasn't sure that I wanted to leave for what had become the backdrop reasoning behind my reasoning to stay 'ever ready'-my relationship with Kull. All of it seemed better played out by my every two or three-week visits so she had her time when I wasn't there, and I could enjoy the better seasons of Mn. Ultimately, I wanted both. I wanted to live most of the Winter in California and the later Spring and Fall in Minnesota. It wasn't exactly what I thought was going to happen when I met Kull, but it seemed it would be the best thing to do if we were going to stay together in the long run. I considered opening up a gym/chiropractic center in both places so that I didn't have to worry about where to work anymore and in time, Kull could work along side me as a teammate training people. I guess if I needed to I would, but why go through the hassle. I had credentials, and it made it really easy to get what I needed without excessive deposits, extensive leases, or having to open up my own brick & mortar place. People just wanted someone there running the show...most of the time.

I live in this open ended manner for the same reason I didn't fix the blower on my jeep in the coldest Winter of Minnesota history--I didn't want to get too comfortable in a spot so that, again, the segway out of Mn, would go easier. Also, because it made it much easier when I was single to not get attached to anyone person in Mn. Having a place that would facilitate that kind of relationship would eventually facilitate me not leaving, so I didn't do it. Being involved with Kull and developing our life together in California was exactly what made sense to me until one day it started not to. After some time of soul searching and actually having a one-way dialogue with the Universe, I was waiting for the answer. I was looking for the signs and trying to read them for what they were.

Friday February  27th, 2015 Birthday Weekend.

Waking up to the sound of Kull's morning alarm that continued to start that song by the Doobie Brothers in my head, Listen To The Music, we rolled around in bed for a bit. Staying on her side of the bed, her fuzz ball cat climbed in from the floor half talking and half attempting to get either of us up to feed it. Reaching over to her, I gave her a kiss on her forehead and lightly massage her back as we passed out again only to wake up to her second alarm, which meant we really had to get up. Or at least she did initially. KDWB played over her speaker set only making the "we're from Mn" sensation all the more real.

"What time is your appointment with that Oxnard doc?" Kull asked trying to remember what she needed for the day. It's at 1:00, but I have one other appointment in West Hollywood at that interdisciplinary place that's affiliated with Cedars Sinai. That's the one I think I really want." Zipping my bag and setting it by the door. 

"That should be exciting." She said somewhat more perky. "Yeah. I hope so." In either situation, I still think I would like to be closer to the beach. I suppose we'll see." I said reaching for her to give her a half hug and kiss to which she pulled away from me slightly smiling. "Let's go." She said reaching for her purse and multiple bags. "I was really startled last night when you came into bed." "Lol. I saw that, but you were pretty out of it. That herbal stuff you're taking must be working." I commented with more of questioning tone. "Yea. I started taking another one my therapist recommended to also help with bring down my anxiety. It seems to be helping." She said now doing her final check.  "What do you want to do later tonight? I asked trying to get a feel for what to expect. "Let's go to a movie, and maybe grab a bit to eat at that Lazy Dog or whatever it's called next to it." "O.K. Sounds good. I should be driving down from Oxnard by then." I replied now opening the apartment door. Eventually, we walked out the door for our morning race to Starbucks before she would shoot down the highway to her work. "Hmmm." I thought as she left. 

Kull's birthday celebration was scheduled for the following night, Saturday, and I turned over the planning to her local girlfriend 'Julie' the week before because of Kull's desire to not be surprised or really deal with lots of people, and have me less involved overall. She was having a hard time lately dealing with everything...her job, our relationship, and one other relationship from the not so distant past. All of it had driven her, as well as my demanding it from her, to a therapist where she got an outside neutral opinion of what she was thinking and maybe some needed correction. She admitted that she was off-base in a lot of the thoughts she would work herself into left alone thinking... or over-thinking, and then reacting to what she had mentally created--real or not. I admit I was relieved that her friend Julie had someone she recommended to her because I was genuinely concerned not just about her well being but how it was playing out in our relationship and between us. 

I saw she was trying to do her part in keeping herself on track, and it made me pause, again, because whether she realized it initially or not, she had not been doing any part in keeping us going or me in the loop about what was happening with her. All this while keeping me at an ever growing distance. I saw she needed help, and as much as I wanted to 'fix' things because it's in my nature, I couldn't. She would have to walk that road on her own while I attempted to hold her hand when she offered it to me literally and figuratively. I would've left her had it not been for his fact..."Cause if I was in a serious funk, and I was pushing people away-with reason or not-I would hope the people that really cared stuck it out long enough and stood by even if at a distance." Be a rock and not just roll because it's get hard, or it seems scary, or you're not getting back. The subtle and not so obvious separation from me so "I can deal with my shit" she said. 

So I bought into it her request hoping it would change her mental attitude toward me and her interpretation of what she later would call my agenda. We talked less. I text less. I waited for her to reach out to me when I was home in Mn. I stopped going to her gym with her when I was in town and made sure she had 'time' to herself. I guess it made sense, but at the same time her going out to a meet-up group that eventually turned into a singles event the Friday before made me wonder. "I need to get out and meet new people. I need friends. I want people to do stuff with since you're not here." She said in one of our conversations about her need to take steps to do so because she had turned into a home-body outside of her gym activities and work.  She, in part did this originally, because she was avoiding what she thought would become points of conflict between us. This, I told her, was her own doing. "I never said you should stay home. Go out. Do things. Just make sure you draw some boundaries because that's where you allow things to become difficult for both of us." I said unknowing she wasn't out watching UFC fights at the local bar or hanging out with an older crew of men because they had essentially found another place to go. She didn't do much outside of work and the gym and occasionally going out with her girlfriends. Whatever it was she had "thought" was the solution to our situation regarding touchy situations was contributing to its demise.

Friday--The next day.4:30 PM. Zuma Beach, Malibu. A conversation with the Creator. 

"I'm home." She texted me. I was on my way in from her favorite spot, Ollie's. "I'll be there in 30 minutes. No gym? LOL." I asked wondering why she was already back home considering the usual time it would take her to get through traffic, in and out of the gym and somewhere in there a half-ass work-out. "Na. I'm not feeling it. I'm really tired. I'll be home when you get back." "Ok." I replied getting up from the beach to get going. I decided after the Oxnard offer to drive down to the ocean and sit for a while and watch the waves and maybe have a cocktail to relax. The deal was good. I got the dollar offer I wanted, and now I just had to decide when the best time was to make the transition back into California. 

As I sat on the beach not too many minutes before Kull text me, I listened to the waves crash onto the beach. The wind was slightly up, but the sun was definitely out. I thought about all the conflict that had come out of our misunderstandings and deciding to become an item. I remembered the few times she had told me that she wasn't comfortable getting much more attention from a person and that her comfort zone was really the part where she was more or less in the chase part of dating men and they more or less didn't pay her too much attention. Somewhere in the space between she existed on her own...seemingly working on her experience of reality that only became more obvious the more time I had spent with her beyond a day or two. I tried to understand how in wanting her and telling her that I wanted her, after asking me if I did, only lead to her running away from us. She said in a conversation after the fact that in so many other times in her life people told her all of those things, and it had the same effect--her running. "Men tell me that they love me and want to be with me...just makes me run. I can't help that I'm this way." I remember her saying. This is likely one of the reasons she was single and had never married; her concern about making the wrong choice had led her to be so afraid of commitment, that she would freak out when the time in any relationship came to decide what to do. I suppose seeing what her parents had gone through didn't help either. It made sense, and then again, it didn't because it was what she wanted--to have a meaningful relationship that would eventually lead to children and maybe marriage. It was what she had put on her dream board that was posted on her refrigerator door. It, her dream board, had pictures of a married couple, a woman with a baby, career related achievements, and a few other things--all of them with one common theme--the need to be committed...every single one of them required real commitment. "Maybe she's a commitment phob." I thought. 

"What do you say?" I asked the Universe as I did from time to time. "You brought me to California. You took me out of poverty only to let me fall into it, and then allowed me to rise up out of it again. You educated me. You taught me to read people like books. You taught me to feel. You showed me around the world and the common things in it and among people. You brought people in and out of my life to guide me and to guide. You let me die on an operating table only to bring me back. What say you, Father? Is this just one of the people you brought into my life to keep me on track or is this one you sent me to help keep on her track? I mean I'm not optimistic, but is she the one you put me through all of this unbelievable life to be ready for? I kinda need to know because it's not going as well as I thought, and it's been hard lately." I thought and likely said in part. I laughed because some parts of our relationship were breath taking while others were days that were full or ordinary things, but none of it was not keeping us together except one real thing--our deep, unexplain connection that had stopped time from the day we met. There were people passing around me that likely thought I was just a homeless guy talking to himself. I laughed at myself (another homeless guy thing to do), but then I was quiet. I listened, and I continued to look for the answer. 

The one sign that I usually let guide me even when the shit was hitting the fan was the all encompassing sensation of peace. My close friend Yonni, a missionary kid from Israel, would often say it, "Follow the peace." He was right. When I did follow the peace, I was exactly where I needed to be even if I didn't always know it or it by other measures didn't feel like it there was.

"Well, I guess you're not sayin much to me today. If you change your mind, and want to send me a sign...ya know...something...anything... it would be helpful. Cause I'm not sure what to do with this little one, but she moves me, and I guess that's why I'm here asking." I continued to think and partially say looking out at the water. A text chime came in on my phone. It was Kull. "I'm home." It read. "All things are one, and are written by the same hand." I said out loud as I turned to start walking to my car after pointing my right index finger into the sky honoring the creator. "I'll be there in 30 minutes. No gym?" I replied....

Arriving at Kull's place, I grabbed the flowers and bag of fruits and veggies I normally bought to eat over the days I visited. I learned to do this over the months of going back and forth because she really didn't keep much food in her fridge or anywhere else, and I like to eat...a lot. So, picking up a few extras and would actually leaving them behind; it was my way of staying content and indirectly feeding the girl. LOL. After a little bit of dialog about a noise complaint Kull had received earlier in the week from the neighbors directly below her about the previous Sunday for early, early morning "pounding" sounds, we were off to the Oaks Mall. As I drove, Kull attempted to understand where or why she had even received the complaint beyond maybe the obvious, she had reported the neighbors to the office for smoking. Not a big deal until the smoke wafts up into her apartment from down below and now you're sucking in second hand smoke! It would happen from time to time forcing us to close the patio door cutting off the cooler air at night. We laughed a bit about joking that Kull had finally got some action in while I was away. She laughed stating that the noise complaint didn't include any audible noises.

Fifty Shades of Grey was on the movie agenda but not before a couple of burgers and drinks for happy hour at the Lazy Dog. One would think that as big of a place as Thousand Oaks is or even California, you wouldn't run into people from your home town, but standing directly behind us was a young couple from Minneapolis. We chatted a bit about what they had done or were going to do with their time for the weekend. The gal recanted her extraordinary walk up a hill to get to the Ronald Reagan Museum as we recollected our agenda of things to do on weekends I visited, and it seemed this was the weekend we would get to it. Before long, time flew by and we were sat in the theater with a box of Skittles for me and Milk Duds for her watching what was likely a half-ass read of a book but definitely a poor recreation in a movie. The sex scenes, which is what people went to the movie to see, were at best, fair, but it did lead to some interesting discussions after the fact.

"What did you think of the movie?" I asked Kull holding her hand on our way out of the theater.
"It was okay and just like I remember the book; I got to a certain point, and I couldn't read it anymore." "Ha. The acting really sucked, but some of the toys being displayed were at least interesting." I said laughing and seeing if Kull, in her closed-off status, had maybe considered opening up a bit. "Well, I suppose I would be interested in trying that with someone I wasn't in a relationship with because it would be too much control otherwise...And, there I go opening my mouth too much again!" She said half looking away but clearly having thought it through. I laughed it off opening up her car door for her. We found ourselves in what seemed to be an awkward situation much like the first time we had gotten together at her place in Minneapolis except this time there was none to be had. Not that night at any rate. I was cool with it. "No expectations." I thought. "Let it happen naturally if it was gonna happen," is what she said. Although I wasn't sure what she meant by that considering the nature of that part of our relationship historically, but I let her make the moves when she was ready. The music from the Fifty Shades movie stuck in my head as the night went on, "..what are you waiting for.." We eventually passed out close to each other even in the distance. The next day was gonna be busy--it was birthday celebrating time.

Saturday February 28, 2014 Birthday Celebration Day..Party Starting At Julies.

The day went by faster than we had planned. We woke up early enough to get to our long run in (14 miles) as was part of the plan for every trip leading up to marathon weekend. As we interacted, I couldn't help but notice something different about her. "Are you using something different on your skin? Cause it seems so smooth." I said slightly caressing her shoulder as she readied for our drive down to Julie's place in East Hollywood. "I don't think so, except that I've been really thirsty the last week. Drinking more water. I'm sure because I've been putting on the miles, and I started eating more regularly. I can't believe that I was 800+calories short with all that running and still doing my morning and afternoon work-outs." She said half relieved it was a simple but serious miscalculation. The Monday before she had taken the day off because her longest run ever, 17.75 miles had caught up with her a couple of days later. Already calorie deficient, her body started shutting down physically putting her in a a state of alert. She had mentioned she was at her other girlfriend's visiting with her and her parents the night before and didn't seem to have any problems, but when she work up the next day, she wasn't sure if she needed to go into the hospital or just stay home and eat and see what was gonna happen. She managed to feed herself in regular intervals stabilizing her system avoiding a visit to urgent care.

"Thanks for helping me with the calorie thing. I guess I just lost track of it, and I really need to keep on top of it." She said. "Yup. I'm sure you've been starving yourself the last few weeks, and likely why you felt you were getting more fat even though there's not any extra fat anywhere I can see! Your body was in starvation mode, and everything you ate it was converting to fat to survive." I said half disappointed that she knew all of this information but because it had come from me, she disregarded it. A personal conflict she had experienced with another past relationship that involved 'health' topics. Fortunately, the incident softened her stand-off attitude toward me. "After all, I actually do these calculations for my patients for a living. People ask me these kinds of things so they do better and get better results. You, hear it from me and it goes in one ear and out the other. I guess I need to present these things to you differently." I said again reaching for her hand giving her a slight kiss.

As we walked out of her place, I stopped for a moment to admire how damn good looking she looked. "Hun. It might just be me, but you're looking really good. I mean....you're busting out of your shirt. Your hair is really nice and full, and you have such a radiance about you." I said as she attempted to get out of the way of the incoming compliments but said, "Thank you." It was true. "That's not just my libido talking!" We held hands making our way to my rental.

We were off, and as it was now my practice, I asked her to navigate.
"Hey Hun. Can you pull up your app to see which way is best to get to Julies'?" "Ook." She said in her half Minnesota accent. We were driving again to get to a destination that was relatively close but would turn into a journey because of weekend traffic.
"It's your birthday tomorrow! Are you excited?" I asked making light of the fact that she was mild uncomfortable with the new age-38.
"There's so much pressure. My dad's gonna be 70 years old. I'm pre-menopausal. Our relationship is not been as smooth as it could be. I'm not sure if I'm gonna have a baby or not in the future." I could here in her voice a touch of anxiety that came with having gone over those topic again in her person. We'd spoken about it before as the topic of what had happened between her and Mr. M had finally surface as the larger part to her depression and regret as of late.

"Well, you do have this relationship to still do something with. Like I said before, we at least manage to get to the talking table and work things out, which seems to be something you didn't get to experience much in your other relationships." I said in a reassuring tone.

"Yea. We do actually to that part well. I've learned so many things from you about me, and about us in our relationship. It's actually made me think about what I could've done differently in my relationship with Mr. M. I think if I had been able to be there longer. If I had listened more, and didn't have to have the last word, then maybe...." I could hear her drift in her words and into her thoughts." I continued to focus on the road while thinking of what not to say.

Twenty-five minutes into the drive to Julies place in East Hollywood
"I guess. You can't really do anything about that relationship anymore because it is in the past, and what you do get to do something with is the here and now. You have a relationship with me, kinda, and all these things you talk about in relationship to Mr. M that you learned from me...why can't you try and use them with us?" I asked as I switched lanes to be ready to take the next exit. She was obsessing over it--the past.

"I've not been really focusing on us the last few weeks. I know that doesn't sound good, but we have so many differences..." interrupting her with saying, "..differences that you created or only seem to want to find because of your interpretation of things in your head. You can be dangerous for your own good left to your thoughts." Her response, as it had been for a number of similar conversations was, "We just don't get each other. I don't get you, and you don't get me." She mildly snapped into the moment. My response, as it always was, "We never had problems in understanding each other before. Sure people having difference, and you can either focus on those differences or you can focus on the similarities." I said this knowing it was pointless because I had, not so many months ago, given her my full attention as a dating partner.

She remained quiet. And, not wanting to let her focus get away from her, I asked, "You once told me the reason you gave up your pregnancy with Mr. M was because he didn't want another baby because of all the hassle his first two kids were. Is that why you honestly did it? You gave it up because he didn't want it? Did you think not having your child with him was going to save the relationship?"

She said, "That's been on my mind so much in the last couple of weeks, and as I've though about it I wanted the companionship more than I wanted the pregnancy. I think I made a mistake in not having the child because I would've fine without him. I think about it when I'm with my friend's baby Zema, and how I'd have a baby pretty close to his age (approximately 18 months), and how I might've been happy, and how I might not ever be that happy again. Then I think about all these things I could've done different...and..." She was getting emotional. Putting my hand slightly on her leg to affirm her, I simply asked her, "If you could do that part of your life over again, would you have chosen differently? Would you have kept your baby?" Without hesitation she said, "Yes. Absolutely." "Good. Now you know for sure you want one. In the future, since we're likely not gonna be together with things the way they are now, you will be a good mom. It's why I was open to kids with you and why I haven't left you." Now putting both of my hands on the steering wheel, I turned off the next exit to make the final part of the drive to Julie's.

 East Hollywood AKA Los Felis Birthday Dinner (Approximately an hour later).

Wrapping up a couple of the Vodka lemonade drinks we put together at Julie's while attempting to get the UFC fight on the projector, we finally made it to a local spots for dinner. The place was fabulous, low key but popular. As we ate, we laughed at all the random things that had happened with Julie's Minnesota visit and figured out what her latest project in town was. Eventually dinner would come and go as did a couple of more drinks and eventually a segway to the Good Guy in West Hollywood where we would be met by one of the other Kulls. Before that, the girls did their customary visit to the bathroom and girl chit-chat. When they returned, a small banana pudding with chocolate had been brought out to mark the occasion.
"Okay. Close your eyes and think of your wish. Ready. Blow!" Said Julie to Kull who nearly blew the chocolate strip clear across the table. We all laughed a bit, and as I took care of the bill while Julie got us an Uber Cab to WeHo. It was always nice catching up with Julie as her stories and the life she lived in California was a little less traditional but very much what you would expect from a Minnesota transplant to the area. Eventually, we'd wait to be added to the list while another tall good-looking Minnesota woman, the other Kull, made it to join us right as our names were 'found' to be let in. 

As the night began in the Nice Guy, the gals did their thing while I stood behind them attempting to participate in the best way I could given the seating arrangement. Kull was doing her best to keep me in the loop, but after a number of drinks over the night, she was just enjoying the conversation that eventually turned into her telling us about her new attempts to get out. "I finally signed up for one of those meet up groups. It was a professional networking one that got invaded by another meet-up for singles." She said with some criticism. "The guys were like on us. I told them that I wasn't there to date but to meet people, but there was this one guy that I talked to for a bit....." She said to the girls as she turned sightly to see if I had chimed in on the comment. .."that was persistent." It was all she said about it, and then went on about the marathon training, etc. etc. Eventually the gals would all get up and make their way to the 'ladies room' to redress their lipstick. 

I sat and took in the scene. The quality of women in the place was average, but the level of exclusivity was high. There were random characters at different spots, and other people that gave their presentation of "importance". I laughed to myself knowing it was all just a show. Just over a year before that I lived within a mile of the place and provided services to all the "A-listers"  and producing executives and never thought about it. But, here I was sitting alone while my girlfriend was working on some impossible selfie her girlfriend Julie needed to take. When they returned, Kull's radiance seemed to have gone up. "Girls, doesn't she look like she's super radiant tonight. I mean...look at this lady!" I said with a semi-giddy tone but pointing out the obvious. The girls agreed. She was radiant, and very buzzed! LOL. I had done my part to stop drinking after my first cocktail at this place so I would be in great driving shape. I usually only ever drank two cocktails in any one outing, but I had gotten in three of which one was shared. When the night was over, the taller Kull had already left to attend her baby while Julie hailed us another Uber dropping us off at her place and our eventual drive home.

We argued about this point momentarily because Kull magically wanted to stay on the sofa for the night, and I already knew this meant a headache for me in the morning having slept on it in the past. After a mild discussion, we were home and in Kull's bed ready to sleep.

"Thank god we drove back here. I love Julie's place but that sofa is difficult to deal with, and I'm sure it would've just been me on there and you in her bed with her. I thought it might be nice to wake up in your place and get to our day versus having to drive back in the AM." I said getting the impression it was her idea to not actually give any indication anything was gonna happen between us. We argued about her thinking I was gonna show up whenever because of the key she gave me to her place. "I guess I figure you have nothing to hide, so I had decided to surprise you when it was cool to, it wouldn't have matter. Nothing to hide, nothing to be awkward about! Right?" I said, but finding she was essentially passed out. I laughed to myself reaching over to kiss her cheek. "Good night little one."

Sunday, March 1st, 2015 Kull's Birthday 

I was up when the light hit the windows. I tried to keep sleeping, but I couldn't. "This might be it. I should stay right here till she wakes and enjoy her sleeping (and the occasional snore)." I thought trying to calm myself. Strangely the Daylight started music playing in my head. "Shit. Think of something else." Trying to direct my attention to something else, but I couldn't. And the more it played, I filled with slight sorrow. There she lay asleep and away from me. Virtually having a mild panic attack, I got out of bed not waking her and slipped out to store to pick up a few more pieces of fruit so I could get a food platter ready for us to enjoy in bed for a bit.

When I returned she was awake, and on the phone with one of the Minneapolis girls. "Fil just walked into the room with a platter of fruit. I'm getting breakfast in bed!" She said with some level of content. She ate while I cleaned up the kitchen mess from the food prep. Trying to find the paper towels, I opened one of the cupboards only to see the one liter bottle of Rum hidden behind a mess of canned foods. It was virtually 2/3 gone. "Wow." I thought. "Either you've been putting them down, or you've had company to help!" I thought mentally asking Kull but saying nothing about it till later that evening.

"My body hurts." I heard her say from the bedroom. "I'll work on you in just few moments if you're cool with it." I said drinking a protein shake I was servicing up for her while slightly raising my voice so she could hear me in the next room. As I entered the room, she asked me what we had talked about last night having forgotten most of it from the last couple of drinks at the place with the girls to the moment she passed out on the bed. I laughed. "I guess the extra glass of wine was the one,eh?!" Pointing out when she might've crossed over to forgetfulness.
I began working on her body as I did every time I visited while training for the race. The areas she complained about, mostly low back and legs from yesterday's run, were tight. She mentioned she was getting adjusted by her local chiro at least once a week which helped a good deal. That, and the hand-held ultrasound I left her was useful on troubled areas when she couldn't get into her chiro's office in my absence. 

"Yup. You got some tight muscles." I said getting one of her gluts to release. There she lay glowing and as radiant as ever looking up at me. I, in all of the distance, felt strangely connected to her every moment we touched. This was also true when we were not in contact at all, but it made sense in those fleeting moments of being physically connected. As the minutes passed, I noticed something about her that I hadn't seen in a few weeks...her lips pursing. I tried to not notice because I didn't want to have an expectation of something I wasn't gonna get to partake in, but then it happened.

"You know. You can if you want to...." She said indicating a couple of things but obviously now in the mood for love-making. I had only briefly thought of it, but it didn't take anything further from her to indulge her. Something in her radiance and glow drew me in. We kissed as if we had just met for the first time but had known each other all our lives by the way we moved. The passion was incredible. We understood each others needs instantly. I remembered to not to say anything stupid as I had from time to time, and she let herself go into non-stop, toe-curling ecstasy. "Yes." Is what I thought and likely said. Now the downstairs neighbors would have a legitimate complaint to report as deep sounds of passion filled the room and likely were heard out the open bedroom window. When it was over, we laughed at that very reason, but lay next to each other a few moments before she jumped out of bed. Time had escaped us again bring us to the Noon hour. "Well, you might end up with another noise complaint." I said half laughing. "Geez. Ya think!" Kull replied laughing while getting up. Sooner or later we ended up at Starbucks and made our plan for the day bring us to the Ronald Reagan Museum. 

"I can see why that gal made such a big deal about the walk up here. My god, it's almost a straight up hike up a mountain." I said as she navigated her car into a parking spot not too far from the entrance. "No shit, eh." She said popping the emergency break. We walked hand in hand toward the place finding that we had really lucked out after seeing Airforce One and a number of historic achievements done by President Reagan and his wife Nancy. When we figured out how to actually get out, we saw the long line of cars parked going down the hill and people marching their way up. "We really did get lucky." I said half laughing. "I suppose. I'm gonna get my gym-gear together and go work-out so you can have "you" time and we can meet up for dinner. Then, I'll grab my stuff and make my way to the airport. "Are you gonna go to karaoke?" She ask half questioning where or not I was gonna hang out with her or not. Her toned seemed to express indifference until we met up at BJ's for dinner just after 6:00 PM. The conversation was much different than I had expected it to be considering the morning activities and connection, but even in all of that, a part of her was running. 

Thursday, 9:00 AM,  MARCH 5, 2014 Starbucks, Minneapolis 

                                         So lately, been wondering, Who will be there to take my place

When I'm gone, you'll need love,To light the shadows on your face

If a great wave shall fall, It'd fall upon us all

And between the sand and stone, Could you make it on your own?

If I could, then I would, I'll go wherever you will go

Way up high or down low, I'll go wherever you will go

And maybe, I'll find out, The way to make it back someday

To watch you, to guide you, Through the darkest of your days

If a great wave shall fall, It'd fall upon us all

Well I hope there's someone out there

Who can bring me back to you

(The Calling's Wherever You Will Go) 

Thursdays, just like Tuesdays, I started my business day activities with emails, phone calls, and letter preparation with a cup of coffee. It was again freezing: -6 below but sunny. I struggled to keep focused on another counter offer for a position in or near Kull's town. The reasons for me to bother to take a job near where she lived had left. Exactly when they left, was still a question I had to think through. Late Tuesday night, she called me to bring to our relationship to earlier end than we had discussed at BJ's just a couple of nights before on her birthday. She did this so that the marathon would be a significant achievement for her and the beginning of new things and a life that was going to not include me. "I don't want the marathon to be the marker of the end of things in my life. I want it to be the beginning." She said with all of her reasoning where it really seemed she was trying to get me to draw the conclusion that it was time and had been time to go our separate ways. When we talked about it, there was always something that kept us in it previous months, but it was not the case now. Neither of us had enough will in our person this time to fully let go of our misunderstandings and personal issues with the other. I asked her the question directly, "Do you want to not be in this relationship with me any longer?" She hesitated because I was making her own her decision. "Yes." She said, finally, with some hesitation and uncertainty.  I thought through it all again while looking out the window into the cold. We both had been goofy all that day we spent together on her birthday. I had forgot my gym shoes and couldn't work out, and she had left her stuff at home after making an attempt to get to the gym. "Maybe we both should've stayed home this afternoon." She had said. We didn't and likely why the follow up phone call after our already discussion came. We got along and understood each other just fine in person most of the time. It's when we didn't 'talk' that some other voices and 'thinking' directed her away from us...me.

It was -6 below outside even though the sun was shining. "I'm done with this crap. I didn't just spend all of this time and money driving around L.A. talking to docs, checking out clinics, and maybe finding a few descent places for nothing." I thought again pulling up an offer I had received from a doc right in Kull's town. "This would really suck if we're not going to talk. And, I'm not going to contribute to a line of ex-boyfriends hovering around hoping she might let them in for some of whatever they think they were getting from her." I was now getting angry at the thought that someone else was in her atmosphere waiting for this very moment-her being free. "I guess you had nothing to say about it," I thought looking out the window addressing the Creator.

Tuesday Night March 3, 2015...Two Day earlier....via phone.

The weeks of what seemed to be escalating paranoia from Kull and the resulting distancing of herself from me was hard to figure out. She had had issues with previous boyfriends that crept up from time to time when she thought I was doing the "same" thing as one or a the other ones she felt was trying to control her or keep tabs on her. I didn't pay much attention to it at first, but as more similarities were being made, I began taking inventory. Whatever the behaviors were that were making her react in this manner-anxious and paranoid needed to be addressed and made rational. 

"I was dating a guy that was a control freak. He needed to know everything I was doing and where I was, etc., etc." She said. "Why do you think that happened?" I asked out of curiosity. Her response wasn't too far off from what I expected. "He wasn't sure if I was cheating on him or not because of my friends." She said half reluctant but gaining some understanding about it from our discussions, some strong, on the matter. I said discussions because we actually did manage to talk through our concerns once we got past our initial not-so-neutral arguments about those hovering or new 'friends'. But, in it, I had given back to her some of the trust we had lost in the discovery of things via her MAC evidenced by my not having asked her anymore about them. 

"You do realize I stopped asking you about Don Nelson or any of those people. I began giving back that trust to you regarding those people, but you don't believe me. Maybe you should ask your counselor about how one regains trust in someone, what that actually looks like, because I've done my part to give it you, but the 'mental filter' you have in your head only interprets things I do negatively." It was true as much as the reason for her disbelief had escaped me...I wasn't there. In all the time we had planned on my arrival, something had come up beginning a doubt that I was unaware was happening. After all, it didn't make any sense to me that she wanted me anywhere there full-time when she had space issues with me when I was there only part-time. After that frustrating conversation and the tears that came out of her for it, I knew someone else would have intervene and correct our faulty thinking patterns, and more importantly, give a reason to believe. I desperately wanted an outside opinion or someone that would give us a reason to put those issues aside long enough so we could come back to the conversation table and connect. 

"Yeah. When you tell me you know how long it takes to drive from this exit to that exit, or you know where I'm at more or less every part of the day, it kinda freaks me out!" She said with some caution in her voice.

"You tell me what your doing, as you had all along, and I remember. I knew, more or less the better times to call or text you, and you interpreted this as me trying to control you?! I don't live in your city, and I live in another state. The only connection I have to your life is the one you share with me."
"Well, you knew where I was the one day I was getting my hair cut and then I texted you I was at 'Julies' place. You knew how long I was actually there!"

"Holy shit. When you text me just before you get your hair cut, and then you post on Facebook that you just got it done, and then you text me or called me, whichever it was, that you made it to 'Julies' place, and "you where just chilling," it doesn't take a rocket scientist to put that information together and deduce how long you were at the cutters and how long you were at 'Julie's'!! You are blowing my repeating back to you what you told me way, way out of proportion! You are over-thinking this stuff wayyy to much." I said to her trying to calm her down. The fact of the matter was that these assumptions and over-thinking patterns had become part of her interpretation of my trying to relate with her considering I lived in another state. It not only lead to her distancing herself from me the only way she could: fewer texts, fewer FB posting, removing her messenger application because she finally figured out why everybody new she was on-line--it tells you right there on the side-bar. Issues. Issues that needed some professional intervention. Issues that had come from her past experiences with other men that hadn't quite make it out of her mind as much as my own experiences with the Mn nurse. Fortunately, Julie had told her she had some 'off' thinking and recommended a professional she could talk to, and she finally did.

Her behavior, the distancing, the growing ambiguity, and lack of regular communication translated to me as only one other possibility short of having a real mental health issue--she was seeing someone else. The behavior, as much as she saw mine, was exactly the same as a certain Mn nurse I lived with and actually caught lying to my face. We had questions and just plain anxiety that we were both doing what the other person feared they were doing...even though in the end it was our misinterpretation of the others reaction to the others behavior. She wasn't seeing anyone new, and I wasn't trying to control her or "keep tabs" on her as she thought. It lead me to Zuma beach to just think it all through and just plainly ask the Universe, "What do you say!?"

10:30 A.M. Starbucks, Minneapolis...(Approx. 1 Hr later.)

"Ring. Ring. Ring." Kull after silence from her since the Tuesday night conversation was calling. I hesitated to answer because in the very few times she did call, it was to essentially shit on me for something she blew out of proportion or interpreted incorrectly from a text (and hence my preference for conversation versus written messages). "OK. I'll answer, but the second she becomes negative, I'm hanging up otherwise it's gonna mess up my day." 
"Hello." I said in as pleasant of a tone as I could.
"What are you doing right now?" She asked with a bit of an inquisitive tone.
"I'm doing what I always do in the mornings. I'm emailing, and working out some paperwork issues." "Well, I was walking around in my apartment this morning bumping into crap, and I thought that it was odd...not to mention I think you were right (something she really hated to admit to me), my breast were actually so much fuller." She said with a little bit of nervous laughter. I remained quiet listening to her continue. "I wasn't sure that I needed to check, but I took one of the last pregnancy tests I had." "And...?" I said with now some level of uncertainty.
"The test said I'm pregnant!" She said with disbelief. I continued to remain quiet waiting for her reaction to what she just said to me.
"Ahhh. Wait a minute. I'm gonna step outside into the-6 degree weather to help bring me into the moment and clear up my head." Now walking toward the door and into the cold and sunlight.
"I know we talked about this months ago jokingly as we had discussed what had happened to me with Mr. M when I told him, and I said I would call you first and tell you." Recanting an actual conversation I remember with crystal clear clarity.
"Okay." I said.
"I went to CVS and bought a few more better quality test before I came to work, and I took a second one....and it says I'm pregnant."
"How do you feel about that right now?" I asked still selecting the right response to all of it considering just a few minutes and just a couple of days, she did't want to see me any more or want to run a marathon we had trained for together.
"I'm not sure. I'm happy. I'm scared. I feel I just broke up with you for all these feelings I had about you. I told my mom and my girlfriends things about you that I'm gonna have to smooth over, etc., etc." She went on, but I stopped her knowing she was getting caught up in her thoughts.
"Hun. I'm still outside, and I want you to know I'm 100% on your team. We can work this out. I'm not sure how you got pregnant considering, but we can go through our dates and your cycle stuff later today or tomorrow. I know we had our issues that lead you to wanting to get out of the relationship, but maybe this is the sign that you can put those smaller things aside, and get back to the big picture. I have a lot of feelings, and I want you to know and remember that in this conversation I said I'm with you." She was quiet, and still in shock and starting to cry. 'Of course you're happy. You wanted the relationship." She said half angry. "Nobody wants a relationship with a commitment phob that has ex-boy friends hovering around," I thought but actually said, "I'm content that we can share this experience together because just like we discussed, neither one of us is getting younger--you just turned 38 four days ago, and I'll be 41 at the end of April. We get a chance to complete the circle of life."

"Now is your time...now is our time. You have a second chance to make better choices and have all the things you want....a baby, a family, and if we can work out, an actual function relationship." I said trying to calm her and follow up with, "Do you want this baby?" She said, "Yes." with a small hint of uncertainty.
"I'm gonna take a third test tonight or tomorrow just to make sure." She said wanting to verify she didn't have to change her plans between us because of a bad test or have to go back and explain to whomever she thought she was gonna be embarrassed to have to explain.
"There's no one that you should be embarrassed about telling you're gonna have a baby!" I said trying to give her some courage. "Right. Right." She said followed by, "I'm gonna call my mom and smooth things over with her because she gets defensive over me."
"O.K. I'm gonna go inside and finish up what I'm doing. Let's talk later today about this new development....alright?!" I said with a mild question. She agreed.
"Just so I'm clear. I want this baby with you. I'm 100% on board, and I'm on your team." I repeated to make sure she was clear and had no reason to over-think it or question my desire to be involved in a positive way. I also did this so the details of her past experience or concerns that came out of it didn't cloud her judgement about our future.

I couldn't believe what I just heard. I was quiet and at peace. I thought about all of the happenings leading up to our break up two nights ago to our now pending family status. I admit I was happy because I knew that someone or something would've had to intervene between us in order for us to get past the crap we had created leading to our separation. That someone had been growing inside of Kull's body every day for nearly two months. This was likely the explanation of her erratic behavior and thought process about me. Maybe this is why she was obsessing about her former relationship with Mr. M and that pregnancy, and her choice to end it and the postponed remorse that followed that we had been dealing with between us. It definitely explained her ever increasing glow and increased breast size all of the girls and myself had noticed over the weekend. I laughed for a moment because it was the reason I had felt so attached to her when we were in front of each other. It was also the reason she was likely running from me to deal with her resurfaced feelings of loss and emotion that came with her current pregnancy hormone release and change. It was our baby that it was all about;we just didn't know it till now. 

I called my mentor to inform him of the new development. He was a little more objective about it than myself, and why I would call him in these types of events.

"Is it yours? I mean you keep high level detailed records of these types of things. Does it make sense to you?" He asked in his general discussion/debate fashion.
"It should be if what she tells me has been true this amount of time of her 'taking more time to be by herself'." I said thinking about my Blackberry where I kept the record of all of our encounters, the time of month is was by day, and the outcome of each event; I learn to do this earlier in my life for all of my sex partners maintaining all of the records just in case.

The records were precise except for one small detail....I was dependent on Kull to be accurate in her rendering the start dates to me especially because I wouldn't be there when she did actually start her cycle. Maybe during the time she was being so ambiguous with me she had given me the wrong day because she didn't think we were going to be having sex again. This could've only have been the case in late January, and even though her cycle did change from month to month in length, we were very much in the clear. So, we thought.  
              
"Do you think there is any reason to believe there maybe someone else involved now or then? Asked my mentor. I was sure there wasn't. After all, I did trust her that much even though a few things had began to seem more and more questionable as the end of relationship drew to a close after a great birthday weekend. "I suppose the need for all of her extra time to herself and the "every so many days" contact request gave me more reason to question the situation, but I think that will be changing now that we have some real things to discuss." I informed him.
"I suppose this is true. She should want to start talking to you because you are now behind the ball by what? A month and some weeks? You two have stuff to catch up on and get ready." He said. "She wants to see how things go, and she knows I'm a planner. I guess planning for it gives her anxiety that it's actually happening." I mentioned from my interpretation of her reaction to me actually saying things like, family, baby, pregnant, etc.

We talked for a while about what Kull did for a living and her experience in this department of life not too many months before we met, and how it was really likely the reason she needed to leave Mn. By the end of our discuss, my mentor determined to maintain his position of "keep your eyes open." As I thought about it, his opinion of her was not as neutral as it could've been and 100% based on my expressions of my relationship with her to him. I had not created the best picture of her because he and I usually only spoke of the potential problems or actual solutions to come up with that might be healthier than just giving up on her or the time invested. It was what I did wrong with him and began making the correction immediately by also informing him of the reasons why she would be a good mom.

1:30 PM. The Birch Chiropractic Center, Edina, MN (A few hours after Kull's call.)

"Well gentlemen. I've had an interesting morning to say the least." I said to my office manger and his assistant. "What does the ship look like today?" I always asked this even though I could just look it up on the computer. It was my way of promoting team-work and a positive environment.

"Someone's feeling a lot more energetic today! Are you O.K. Cause yesterday you were definitely not." Ryan said looking at me oddly.
"You're right. Yesterday, I was lost. Albeit, I was just told by Kull we were done the night before and after a really good weekend. But, today, she called to inform me that I'm going to be a father." I said straight faced with a half smile at the reality of it. "I get to complete the circle of life." I thought.
"W.T.F." Is what actually came out of Ryan's mouth follow by, "Are you shitting me! Kull is pregnant with your child?" He said in wonder and awe. I suppose I was still to.
"Yup. I guess it's time to man-up and get to it already. She's gonna take another test to confirm it, but she already took two of them, and they both came back positive." Explaining to him how the conversation had more or less gone.

I sat at my desk looking at all the files on it that needed attention but then out the window to watch the clouds go by. A singular opening in the distant cloud cover let a beam of sunlight through. "I guess the baby is the sign you sent me..us." I thought acknowledging my simple belief of Universe and its interplay with mankind. "All things are one." I said as a knock on the office door brought me back into the moment. "Patient Z is ready to be adjusted."

The day went by with random texts from Kull and her inability to wait till after work or the next day to take the third test. "It says I'm pregnant! O.M.G. What have we gotten ourselves into Fil. LOL.?" She text me trying to make lite of the whole thing and really attempting to keep calm. I was mildly pleased she referenced us in our present pregnancy status. "How do you feel?" She text me. "I'm fine. Everything will work out just fine." I replied back. We were now involved in something bigger than our situation even though we hadn't planned on it. It brought into mind an old biblical principle of people making our own plans but in the end, it is the Creator that directs our every step. I knew it to be true, and in it I had peace. I was flying into Los Angeles within days to run the L.A. Marathon with her. I couldn't wait to see her. Sure she had smart-ass commented to me that "of course you're happy, you wanted the relationship." But, it was more than that--we both would now have a legacy to invest in and leave behind when it was our time, and it was something neither of us could just chalk up as chance.

Later that day we spoke on the phone after 800 PM (Central). This had become a rarity in the weeks leading up to our pregnancy discovery. It was usually one excuse or another. "I'm tired from the gym." "My phone is about to die." "I'm crabby or I'm watching The Bachelor." Were her most common excuses, but today those went a way for the night at least. Thinking about it, it was likely the pregnancy that had made her tired, crabby, and whatever other mood she was in bringing into question how long had she been pregnant. It was a fact were would come to deal with later. 

"Hey. How are you feeling?" I asked in a soft even-toned voice. "I'm all over the place. I'm happy. I'm still kind of in shock. I'm not sure how I got pregnant because I kinda had what seemed to be a lighter discharge earlier the last few days, but I thought it was because of the marathon." Pausing for a moment for me to interject.

"Well, what my Blackberry tells me is that you told me you started your last cycle on Friday that first week in February, and that would've put your possible ovulation day on the 16th on a short cycle but the 19 on a longer one." I said going over all the details accounted for in my Blackberry. After all, it accounted for all of the time we had know each other in that way since day one; it was a fact that made Kull nervous but also gave her more confidence in how we had prevented pregnancy till now.

"I didn't start my period on that Friday cause I was out with the other Kull that weekend, and it was nearly done. I must've told you the wrong day." She said in wonderment. "Maybe this is when you were trying to be all ambiguous about those things with me and the rest of your life." I said with a slightly accusatory tone. "Whatever it is, if it was two days off, then you got pregnant Valentine's Day weekend on one of those two days after you decided you wanted to be open again to me." I said half laughing recalling the only reason she had 'changed' her mind was because of the skin-care gal I was going to meet for coffee that contacted me from FB. "Like I said earlier, now that we know we are expecting, we have to agree to be at least neutral towards each other if not more positive. I want our baby to have the most positive energy from you and our situation. We can do this together. We can work out our issues enough to be a good team for our baby." I said with some hope and optimism.

"I don't know Fil. I feel like I'm trapped in a relationship I was trying to get out of because of all those things that happened between us."  I followed her by saying, "I get it. I didn't try to get you pregnant for the record! You and me contributed to our relationship break-down. I will take responsibility for my part, but you have to take responsibility for yours. We now have a really good reason to let some of those things go and work on them because we will be having a baby. I'm not saying it's the answer to our problems, but it's definitely a good reason to try, let go of the smaller things, and take in the big picture. We can get help and create the best possible situation we can."

"I know. I will work on calming myself down. I have to stop taking all my supplements that I was using to help calm me down and put me to sleep." She said in agreement followed by, "But next week for the race, I want to keep our agreement the same as if nothing has changed between us. You can't stay with me. I will let you stay at my place the night you fly in, on the sofa, and I will drop you off at the car rental place in the morning. Then, we can meet for dinner after work on Thursday and talk about all of this. I know you're a planner, but I want to make sure it's gonna stick before I get excited or anything. "Do you want this baby? Do you want our baby?" I asked her again to hear her say it and make sure she was mentally processing its reality. "Yes. I know now is the time because we're not getting any younger." She said half laughing, and I added, "And by the time this one gets to high school graduation, we'll be seniors!" LOL.

Admittedly, I was a bit taken back by her not welcoming me to stay with her at what had become my other home in Cali. Her desire to carry-on as if we had continued to not really talk didn't communicate well. I suppose I was not sure what it meant. "Are we not a couple? Are we gonna be a parenting team but not be together? Is there someone else I should be aware of that even cares or would care that you are having my baby? Are you afraid people or someone is gonna care? Why are your FB friends unfriending me?" I thought to myself agreeing to get some research done on where we were at in the pregnancy time of things that should've happened already for nutrition, OBG appointments, and a list of things we were going to need to determine in the very immediate future of which one was Kull running the marathon...or hopefully not. With all the information out there, I hoped she would come to terms with a few very important things. First, that she has a high-risk pregnancy. Second, the marathon was likely gonna have record breaking temperatures by almost 30 degrees more heat. Things I was trying to prepare the right presentation for her to conclude on her own. There would be other races she could run in the future, but she only has this pregnancy, now, and she needed to protect it. Before we knew it, I was on my way into L.A. Our communication had gone up slightly, but not at night--no actual phone conversations.

March 11-17, 2015 Race Week: The L.A. Marathon

The flight into L.A. was late in its arrival. It landed at 11:30 PM, and by the time I got to the Fly-Away station, 45 minutes later, it was already 12:45 AM. It was way later than Kull could stay up given the fact that our pregnancy was taking it out of her as well as everything else she was striving to maintain. An Uber Cab became the option available to make to her place now quickly approaching the 1:00 AM hour. The ride was surprisingly fast considering most people drive 80+ mph in the dead of the night. When I arrived, the wind was blowing, and I could see Kull's blue car on the street; its sight brought ease to my being. "I'm home." I thought scrambling for the ring of keys that had the blue one on it.

As I walked in to her place, the sound of her fan blowing muffled most of my clumsiness from banging on things in her bathroom that was attached to her room. "White noise." As I carefully (or not) made my way into and out of her bedroom area. She was dead asleep. "Good. She didn't hear me." I thought trying to not bump anything else or wake her cat. As she said, the sofa had the pillow she let me use that worked best for my neck issues, a blanket, and a sheet all made into a bed. "Thanks." I thought thinking of Kull. "It would've preferred to have snuggled next to you, but I get the sleeping issue you've been having." I said to her in my thoughts. A few hours later, I heard her alarm go off instantly starting that Doobie Brothers' tune in my head. I heard her move around a bit, and before I knew it she was sitting by me.

"Hi." She said in her mild morning voice. "I didn't hear you come in at all." She went on getting up as I followed her. "Yup. I was super quiet. I could hear you snoring slightly when I was brushing my teeth." Now getting into bed with her giving her a kiss on the cheek while hugging her.
"We've got some things to discuss, Fil." She said. "I know. We'll get that started tonight when we have dinner, and stop by that running place for a few things." I said while caressing her arm and brushing back her hair enough to get it out of her face.
"I feel trapped in this relationship with you." She said as I replied, "I know you said that before, but like I said, we need to do our best to work that out if we can. We certainly have a really good reason to do so," I said placing my hand over her lower belly while rubbing it lightly. "I know." She said inn her Minnesota accent while curling into me releasing the bit of built up tension she had had for my arrival.

"I get the impression, as we've spoken since last week that you're not sold on having our baby. I mean, every time I've brought it up you ''Shussh" me or tell me not to say certain things too loud as you, like now, cringe slightly." I said in a comforting but direct voice. "We'll figure this out for sure. Remember what I said to you, 'love our baby.'" I said this knowing that if she could bring herself into the reality that she was actually pregnant, it would have a double effect--it would give our baby good vibes, and it would indirectly cause her to soften her sentiments about me having the same cyclical effect on our baby of positive vibes about me. We hugged momentarily and fell back into her pillows for a bit before we got up to get ready for the day. Before long, we were off to Starbucks and eventually the car rental place. "I'll call ya when I think I'm gonna be out of work today." Kull said then asking where I was going for the day. "South of L.A. past Venice. I should be back up here in plenty of time to meet you after work. Then, we can grab dinner and chill at your place a while." I said getting her normal Minnesota, "Ookay," in response. 

I had one appointment in the South side of L.A. for a clinic owner that was hoping to get out of the industry within the next year and wanted an associate to come in and take over the place. It was part of my back up plan in case the contract review with the doc in Oxnard changed or couldn't be delayed by 30 days from our original discussion now due to pregnancy...our pregnancy and Kull's need to have some solitary time to take it all in. 

5:30 PM, Italian Restaurant, and The Road Runner store in Newbury Park, CA.

The day was flying by, and Kull had already text me that she was on her way to what she thought was "The Running Room" but really was the Road Runner! I could only laugh thinking of the same type of incident where some Minnesota business name had been transposed to a place there in her new town out of habit. "In the store," I text her. "I'm just parking." She replied. I made my way around the store trying to find the right type of jersey to wear for the race. As has been my custom for all of the marathons I've run, I wore a customized tank that gave my reasons for running those 26.2 miles. This one had a family theme to it. She wouldn't see the final product till race morning considering her desire to not have me in her place, but Kull seemed to grow more accepting of it by the time we got to race day.

"Hey. Hun. I think I've got what I need from here, but we can also get stuff at the Expo." I said now mildly embracing her. "Yeah. I think I want some socks and gummy stuff here, and then Ill need to find a hat there." As she turned to point out the lack in selection at the store. "I'm sure they'll have something that will work. If not, we can always drive over to Santa Monica where you'll be staying with the other Kull. It'll be easy." I said. As we walked out, we held hands. It was something that I wasn't sure was going to happen, but I welcomed it, and it was good.

"It looks like Italian." I said pulling her closer. By the time we finished stuffing ourselves, we had agreed we were going to have our baby without a question. We had decided that it was likely most advantageous to have the baby in California as Kull had 100% coverage at any one of the hospitals attached to her company, and we were still discussing where and how we would raise our baby. We also discussed staying in her apartment community for the first year so she didn't have to get used to another place with a newborn. "I appreciate you being flexible with the living situation. I'll figure out what a 2-bedroom goes for here since my lease is coming up soon." It was a good move considering it would reduce her part of the expense while only raising my slightly. 

"It'll be cool. You might have to show me this swimming pool area and club room that we've never used in your last year of being here!" I said to her half laughing. "I suppose the real question is, when do we start sharing space. I know you were really wanting to have "you" time this last month or so, but now we have things to do. I suppose if we wait till the beginning of our second week in the second trimester, we can work on getting a couple therapist for us, we can take 'baby' related classes so I can be actively involved, and we can find a nanny named 'Maria'. I said in a mild tone while watching for her response as part of a joke making light of the situation.

"That'll would be really good, but I don't want to have to feel like we need to talk everyday between now and then. I wanted that space for so long...and now we're pregnant." She said with a slight groan. "I know." I said reassuring her things were going to be just fine while placing her hand in my own. "We can do this together."

"I like your idea of being here in the Winter and being in Minnesota part of the nicer seasons." She said smiling realizing it was a real possibility within a year or two. "It would be nice for you not to have to work like you do now, but I think you can get your personal training certification going and we can put something together that might allow us to work together like the Birches do." I said getting up to walk to our cars. She grabbed my hand to hold as we made our way getting ready to spend a little time together at her place.

Arriving to her apartment, my memories of the place were so much more vivid. Lot's had happened in the days of her moving from her guest house apartment off of Rancho to the place she lived at now. I was there every step of the way. I laughed remembering how crabby we had gotten the day her and Julie and a few other people emptied out her storage. All the dots had now been connected. Maybe, in spite of our own contributions to our relational divide, this was supposed to happen exactly the way it did. I thought it and likely said it to myself along the way, but I still had concerns about her running the race. It was time to put the topic back on the table after we settled in a bit and took in a little Buffy.

"Hey Kull? Do you mind if I have a sip of that sweet rum of yours? I asked having already checked the cupboard to see if it was still hidden behind all the other food products and mountain of tuna cans. "Sure. I think I put it way back so I wouldn't see it there. I'd been really nervous considering all of these new changes between us and my inability to take all of those supplements." "O.K." I said pulling the bottle to eye level mildly disappointed that the bottle had gone down since my last visit out just over a week before. I suppose in her determining that she was gonna end the relationship sooner, and talking to whoever she was talking to about it lead to some drinking, but it was still more than one might drink at one time or alone. Maybe she was using it to calm herself till she realized she was pregnant. In either scenario, the bottle was nearing empty really made me nervous, but I didn't bring it up.

My things, the clothes and shoes that I left at her place, were all still in their places giving me some relief. "I suppose I'll need to take that stuff now? I asked her. "Maybe not. It's not last week when we were not going to be talking again (something she had determined for us). We are gonna be teammates on this. So, you should just leave it there." She said. "I guess except the part where you don't want me to be here for the rest of the weekend." I thought as she came up to me. I reached for her to give her a hug and a kiss. She had settled down some. So I brought up the conversation on what things we needed to do as a team so she was looking up things, and I was looking up the others. It was here that I brought it up,"Do you know what a healthy body-fat percentage is for pregnancy?" I asked to which she replied, "No. Nahah. I can look that up." I knew it was 20%, and considering the amount of running, the few weeks she was under-eating for her training, it was a miracle that she even got pregnant. The only logical explanation was that in her body's going into starvation mode, she converted enough food into fat so that she could have enough available to actually get pregnant. That, and the fact that maybe she was putting out more than one egg a time in her pre-menopausal status; the combination of the two made sense, but now it was a matter of how to keep enough 'fat' on her if she was gonna run the race.

"What if I eat more tuna?" She asked. "I'm not sure about that, but you might want to Google it to make sure there isn't a mercury problem." She about broke down with all the Do's and Don'ts that we were beginning to discuss. I reassured her we were likely OK, but we needed to catch up because we started behind as in "we hadn't been planning on getting pregnant."

Then I just asked her, "Do you have any concerns running this marathon for our baby?" "Opp. You said it again," she said indicating the "our baby" statement was too much still to swallow. "I've been researching on the internet, and it says different things. My friends think I shouldn't. What do you think?" She asked now concerned about what I was going to say.

"I think I cannot tell you to not run the race because you will just want to defy me because it's your nature to do opposite what people say to you to do. So, I want to be supportive of you in your endeavor to run this race. You invested a lot of time and energy and resources. But there is the part where you are caring our family, and it's a high-risk issue considering your age and prior history and all of this training. So I can only be as supportive of you to the point where you put our baby at risk--I cannot support you doing things that will harm it or put it at more risk than it already is." I said while putting my hand on her. She thanked me for the part that I would support her for and understood my concerns. We talked a bit more about things, but eventually I left her to head to my buddy Fallon's place in Venice so as to honor her request of me staying elsewhere.

Saturday March 14th, 2015, The Expo Downtown L.A. 1:30  PM.

 "On my way." Said a text that came in from Kull. After a short discussion with her the night before about how it was likely best to meet up and go to the Expo, I waited for her to arrived considering the parking situation in Venice. She running a little behind as we had also decided it was likely another good move for her to bring all of her stuff along for the night and race day because an extra 20K people had flooded the city making everything impossible to get to or from. "Sounds good. Let me know when you're close, and I'll run out and jump in your car." I replied. Texting was how we communicated most during the week leading up to my return for the race and discovering we were pregnant.

In was this discovery that seemed to make Kull had opened up a bit in her time with me because originally she wasn't going to see me at all except maybe for a beer after the race. I gave her the distance she asked for with the understanding that if was for a short period of time so that she could settle a few things in her person and mind and be ready to get on the team card of going through our pregnancy together. Both of us, in the week leading up to our dinner, had different emotions about it. Ya know...some anxiety, nervousness, 'are we ready to do this', kinda stuff. In all of it, it seemed that it was me that was less concerned even though I had the most things to do apart from her physically growing the baby.

As I had said in our joking about the situation and ,"if we ever end up pregnant" talk, I would take on an associate role or just buy out a practice if needed. I had drawn out the plans to create a rehabilitation/conditioning chiropractic center for athletes and people that wanted a full gym experience with a chiropractic functional component. This option was going to take more time and energy to create than what a 6.5 month period of time might allow considering a November 4th, 2015 due date. All of this, while figuring out what might work best for my client and friend in my transition to California Dreamin with a family to provide and care for. These types of situations, the unexpected, is what I was really good at being calm during to manage the outcomes when it doesn't affect me personally. It may have made me come across as having planned it all, but in fact, I was making the plans up as we went along and we got along day-by-day. I had given up my place to live early to coincide with my week in LA and what would be a couple of weeks in an Airbnb after the race, if I needed the flexibility before I would make the drive out.

"You know you have to talk her out of running that race tomorrow. She will likely miscarry during it if not within a few days. She's a high-risk pregnancy, and you have 50% of the say in what happens to your baby." Fallon said with near emotional conviction about it.

"I know. I've made my case to her. She will only run it harder if I tell her not to run it. It's in her nature to do exactly opposite what she's told unless it's her dad, and she won't be telling him till she flies down to Texas a few days after the race." I said absorbing the reality of what my over-qualified master training friend had just said. "I will see how she's feeling considering the weather is ridiculous outside," I said as Fallon added, "And it's gonna be worse tomorrow. She must either be in denial or she wants to miscarry." I heard it not agreeing with him but not discounting the line of thought as he continued, "That way, she can't say she made the decision to end it...accept that she's making the decision to run the race that will likely end it." I acknowledged what he said as Kull's text came in, "I"m just down the road." "I'll see ya later buddy. We gotta go to the Expo to get our race bibs."

His words made me tense. I guess they should because the fact of the matter was he was right about the race, the conditions for the day, and the fact that she was a high-risk pregnancy. All of it I had gone over in my head attempting to make up excuses for it like,"she had trained all this time so her body is ready for it." Or, "If she takes it easy the whole way, drinks plenty of water, and stays cool, she'll be Ok." I thought them and she had later said them to me as if she had read my mind.

"Hey Hun! How was your drive down?"
"It was Okay. You were right about there being people everywhere. And, I'm crabby from being in my car the last couple of hours." She said as I kinda laughed but said nothing that might come across as smart-assed in tone. "The address is..." I mentioned so we could get her Waze app going. And, before we knew it, we were off and in the middle of moderate to heavy traffic the whole way only adding to Kull's level of "happiness." "I'm so tired today, and I'm already hungry!" She said attempting to understand what her navigator said. "There are plenty of places to grab "freebies" at the Expo. We'll snack a little and then find a place to sit and eat some food before or when we get to Santa Monica. Then we can find out where City Hall is for the shuttle buses tomorrow." Half laughing at the traffic and the heat.

When it was all over, we managed to not be crabby too much with each other and to a burger place on La Brea close to where she attended yoga in L.A. We ate. We talked about random concerns. I brought up the race and opened up the table for any comments she had, and I repeated my own thoughts, "...there are other races to run if, as you say-'it doesn't stick', and all I can say is why add more risk to it than already exist." "You're trying to make me feel guilty and talk me out of running the race." She spouted out in a medium level tone. "I'm trying to make sure our baby has the best chance to grow safely, be healthy, and live." I won't say anything further about it. We are gonna run this thing tomorrow." I said mildly laughing and adding, "It's gonna be our first 'healthy' family event." Kull half laughed.

Whether she knew it or not, she had already become family to me with the discovery of our pregnancy only indicated by my giving her my birth name largely only known to my actual family members; giving her my actual birth name was me accepting her as family. It had always bothered her when I wouldn't tell her in her earlier relationship inquiries. "You have to be family to know that information." I had always told her, and I actually wanted her to be, but some things needed to happen along the way. It just turned out one of those qualifiers was having my child.

The day ended after running around Santa Monica looking for a hat for Kull to wear during the race to minimize sun and sweat. Finding one had taken three store checks and a number of blocks of walking. When it was over, we had essentially grown hungry again leading us to stop for protein shakes before she left me at my buddy's place. I kissed her, and got out. We talked a little in the later evening to figure out the shuttle and after race logistics, and then she left for her girlfriend's place on the other side of town. As had been her plan before we actually separated, she arranged to stay at the other Kull's place to avoid having to drive in on race day, and it was also so we could avoid any emotional conversations on race night. I got it.

Sunday March 15, 2015 Race Day...L.A. Marathon

"Hey Hun. I'm not sure how we are gonna be able to meet up before the shuttle considering where you are and where I'm at." I said mildly disappointed we wouldn't arrive at the same time, and then the possibility existed that I would not find her before the race started. "Let's just meet at the stadium." She said with a few random noises in the background. "Ok. Well text me to let me know you actually wake up, and I'll wait for you by the bag drop-off area." Now half anxious about what the day was going to bring. I suppose what it would bring on the whole. I smiled, and felt some peace about it. More importantly, I had started to experience a feeling I hadn't experienced in years...the subtle sensation of joy. It wasn't just because she was pregnant with our child or that in all of the years of striving to be in a position where it could happen; it came from having a different level of completeness that came with her and the child. I was complete already as much as she was on her right, but there is a different depth that is reached with being able to share the giving of life together with someone special. It was something that we acknowledged in our early days of getting to know each other.

Before we knew it, we were lining up getting ready to start running. The national anthem was sang, and the herd of people finally began to move, and just before all of it, we managed to find each other only to stand in line to use the 'Biffy's' that were actually called something else. "I'm gonna be happy when we get out of the crowd and can freely run." "Yeah. No shit, eh!" Kull replied back while avoiding food wrappers, banana peels, and other random things that were thrown on the ground as people waited to get past the magnet marker starting your individual chip time for the race. Crossing the first mile marker is where the crowd finally started to break up some. We were running our own pace stopping periodically for a 'Kull pee' break, which I thought was a good thing indicating she was hydrated but adding minutes to our overall time.

Rounding the bend by the 5th mile, which was essentially downtown, music played from various bands and street performers giving up a running day performance that was cheering us on. It was here that one store was playing a track from the Rocky original score. The sound of it brought me to tears. Something Kull caught and offered comfort to me. "Why are you getting emotional?" She asked.
And as much as I wanted to tell her everything that mattered, I told her, "It's because it's real Americana-someone working hard that gets a break and ends up getting what they dreamed of only to loose it in the long run, and manages to overcome obstacles along the way to find it again." I said recovering from the moment. We would share a number of them along the way. It was, after all, what we had been training for all these months, and now, it was actually happening...the race....us running it together..and the beginning of a different more meaningful life we had been striving for all these months.

At mile 19, we where having wear and tear problems that started us walking and running as much as Kull could stand at a time. She had disappeared a few miles back in the transition from Sunset Blvd to Santa Monica where the race went by my former home in West Hollywood asking to run this last part of it alone. I agreed to run ahead, but then I would walk, and then she would catch up. Then she would get ahead, and then I would catch up. Eventually we figured out, we were gonna finish it together even if we had to walk the last few miles, which I had preferred concerned about our pregnancy while still being supportive as we interacted race. Not to mention, I wasn't just going to leave her there!  I mentioned things about the upcoming time we would have together and spat out a few things that involved us as a family unit. This didn't go over lightly with Kull I would later find out from her. 
In the process of getting there where the race meets the ocean, we held hands and decided to take a pic minutes from the finish. "OK. Let's walk this last part quickly, and save some juice for the last couple of blocks where the cameras are so we can look good crossing the finish line." I said laughing. She laughed, and then she nearly began to cry. When we finally did cross the line, I reached out for her, and she broke down in tears. "We did it." She said softly. "You made it." I said affirming in her accomplishment while hugging her briefly planting a kiss on her salty cheek. "We need to get to some food, and chill the hell out!" We both agreed and hobbled down the road way out.

After some light food at King's Head, and an extra ordinarily long wait for an Uber cab, we made it to her care at the other Kull's place off of Santa Monica Boulevard. We were hungry again before it was over. She was already in neck and upper back pain. "Ahh. My neck is starting to get sore." She said trying to rub it out on the sofa.

"I'll see if I can get some of those muscles to release, and then we'll see if it will move. You're gonna have to ice it up pretty good tonight." I said give her upper neck and back mild tissue stretching. "A likely'whip-lash' type of injury from all the race-way pounding." I thought. Fortunately, she had the following day off, and I was going to be spending it with her and give her whatever care I could considering we had just run 26.2 miles in record breaking heat while we were pregnant.

Later that night she called to tell me, "My neck is killing me, and I can hardly move it, and I can't take any Ibuprofen or get comfortable enough to sleep." She said semi-frantically. "Take it easy and breathe." I said waking from a three hour nap with a soothing tone of voice. "Try and rolled a bag of ice and wrapped it with a thin towel. We've done that before for you. You need to do that till the inflammation can calm down some. I'll get the ultrasound on you tomorrow when I get to you. Keep on hydrating and add something with electrolytes to your water. Your body has a lot of waste products to get out not to mention acid build up." I said concealing my growing concern that her body might start to reject the pregnancy in the cleaning up process of marathon waste build-up. "Take it easy hun. I'll be there soon enough. That'll give you some time to sleep and move around a bit." "Ookay." She said with a blunted tone. She was drained, and now just getting her to eat enough was the mission. One that would have to wait till morning to help her with per her original request.

The uncertainty was killing me. I didn't want to seem over-bearing or come across as wanting to micro-manage her as she had essentially told me not to do in our discussions on things we needed to catch up on as far as nutrition and eating went. "Too much distance from you two, hun." I thought looking outside as the sun set. Eventually, Fallon dragged me to karaoke to keep my mind off of things. "You need to get a drink in you or you're gonna loose it." He said, and he was right. I couldn't out-step her boundary at this point, and the best thing I could do was stay in the moment and sing...sing a song or two knowing the only thing I might be able to control was the MIC in my hand.

Monday March 16, 2015 Kull's Place in T.O. (Approx. 11:30 AM.)
The PCH is the best way to get up and into the Valley where Kull's town is. The canyon road that brings you from essentially the ocean in Malibu to the exit only six minutes from Kull's old Rancho (Rancho!) exit. Much quicker than one might know, and on a busy traffic day, it's the fastest most scenic route to take. This is how we would get back and forth from her town to Zuma beach or Santa Monica making things seem much closer than they really were. Now, on a Monday morning, it was, as usual, beautiful and actually a normal 72 degrees versus the 90+ degrees the day before at the same time of day.

Cutting off the 101 onto Rancho, I was getting giddy to see her and how she was doing. After all, she was my girl, and I wanted to be with her and take care of her as much as she would let me. Not to mention, it's what I do for a living.. take care of dramatic personal injuries with a high enough level of success that I would later be nominated, along with my office mate, top chiropractors in our home state's premiere Minnesota Monthly magazine. I took the bend a little fast but managed to make the light. Otherwise, it could be a good ten minutes before it would change again or another car came from behind to signal the switch. Arriving, I saw her car and patio window open. It was really nice out as usual.

Knocking while opening the door, I entered saying, "Hello." There she was along side her cat sprawled out on the sofa. "Hey." She said half out of it and in need of some fluids. "Can I get you some water, hun?" "Yes, please!" She said softly looking up at me as I smiled thinking, "Sex?....Yes, please." Laughing to myself as it had gone in days past. Putting my things down, I made my way to the kitchen noticing the bag of trash that had built up and a random number of dishes in the sink. "I'll take care of those....." I thought pouring her an Uptown Diner glass of water with lime.

"Here ya go." Handing her the glass only to turn to hit the bathroom. (Long drives just take it out of me.) "You don't look so hot!" I said reaching for the area on her neck she was rubbing out. "Ya think." She said half laughing. We both laughed a bit, and then relaxed as much as our sore bodies would allow as the marathon aftermath was starting to kick in. "I don't have to take my rental back till 2:30-3:00ish. So, we have time to eat and rest. I can work on your neck a bit, and just chill, and maybe you can show me that invisible swimming pool and club room on our way out to drop off the rental." "Oh. Yeah." She said and then dozed off. I watched and listened to her and the T.V. as she napped caressing her back from time to time. She was really warm.

Everything was exactly as it was when I left last time with the exception of a few rocks in the wall shelf display that we had found while combing the shore on one of our beach visits. One of the looked like it might've been an old tooth from someone or something. The other was a piece of beach glass that had been smoothed over by the waves. On a side table, I saw my brass/gold colored carabiner I traveled with. In my youth and rock climbing days, it saved my life in an uncalculated jump, slip, and 50 foot fall. I carried it for luck, and seeing it again, made me smile. I was home. Kull was next to me with our baby growing hopefully in good shape considering yesterday's event. When she woke, the dishes were done, and the trash ready to go. We were gonna take off, but before I got a TENS unit on her neck muscles to start the healing process and get her enough relief for an adjustment. She wasn't in good shape and needed more than today's attention to get back to normal.

As we left the her place, her down stairs neighbor was standing in the doorway. It was the one she had been prepping to help with her cat on the weekends she was gonna be out of town. Her neighbor seemed inquisitive of who I was, and either Kull, because she was having a hard time turning her neck or was just out of it enough, didn't see or acknowledge her...even after I brought her to her attention. "Strange. Maybe she's really out of it. That, or she doesn't want her neighbor to meet me." I thought as I waved at her in our making our way to the mail area, the swimming pool, and the club house. "I suppose you should see what you're gonna be getting when you get here." Kull said making reference to our upcoming time to share space, save some dollars, and prep. It wasn't too long of a tour, but it was amazing that the whole time we had been there, me in and out, we had never even used the pool! Lol. I guess because we went to the beach.

Before long, it was early evening, and we couldn't get enough to eat. We had dropped off the rental. We ate at some place and went home only to sleep some more while I did laundry. We ate, again later, some Mac & Cheese Kull cooked up for us (That was a first. lol). We further discussed Kull's now changing Summer travel plans to reign in the spending and still get her to a couple of important events like her 20 year high school reunion, or Florida to see some girlfriends, and without say, the Minnesota State Fair. She wanted my actual advise on "how to" make it happen while keep it reasonable. "I mean. You're much better at this than me. Can you help me figure out some of these travel things." She asked. It was the first time she asked for my help, and I was happy to give it. We discussed time-lines for me moving, our couple counseling as well as other financial strategies for baby care related things including renting space from her friend Julie's new 'Wellness Center' where I could bring in all of my private clients that I would give care to when I was in town.

As moods change at times like the wind with Kull, we ended up in a lightly heated discussion that I determined to let Kull have the final say in because I knew she was crabbing all things considered. Eventually, she came around, and we got back to the team building stuff we needed for a bit because we were both tired, and I was going to need to get to the airport soon. We hugged and kissed but eventually ended up on the sofa watching some T.V. show. "I'm gonna miss holding you when I'm away." I told her. She nodded and asked for more water. "I guess I better get used to this. Every guy I know that had a pregnant partner was running around town at all hours getting food for 'their lady and baby!" I laughed and checked to make sure I had the basic things I needed to bring back with me remembering to show her the book I was creating from all of our pictures that I had take each and every trip I had made out or she had made to the Cities. It was a picture story of us from the beginning to what was now the marathon and our pregnancy. It would be complete within the week for ordering. We laughed as she mentioned it was her bestie Big Hands that normally photo journal her life. The rest of our discussion we left for the upcoming weeks to work out and my return for the next available untrasound appointment by an OBG doc.

"O.K. I guess we should get going to the Fly-Away station so I can catch the right bus." I said getting Kull ready to get back onto her feet and ready. "Oh. I can drive you to the airport. I mean at this time of night, it'll be quick." She said. I was a bit surprised but politely accepted the offer. It had only happened on one other occasion that she drove me because most of the time I just drove my rental back at the right time to get on my flight. "Sweet." I said. A short while later when we arrived, she came out hugged me and gave me a kiss. "I'll let you know when I get in to MSP. Be good to yourself and this one putting my hand on her belly." As she looked at me like she was too sick to think about.
"Let me know you got home. You still are a little out of it." I asked her politely and because it was gonna be nearly Midnight by the time she'd make it back. She looked up at me as she had in trips past that we were leaving each other..already missing the other even though we were right there in front of each other, and softly said, "Ok." It brought Enrique's Bailando into my mental sound machine. "I want to be 'contigo'. Dance 'contigo'. I watched her drive off, and when she was no longer visible, I turned to walk into the terminal.

Getting through the TSA at LAX was like warm butter on a hot sunny day compared to going through it in MSP. I walked in and usually recognized one or two of the TSA agents. There was no line at that time of night, and I usually got to the gate right as they started to board. It was my flight of choice. As I waited, I thought about the future, Kull, and what would soon be our family. I still had my concerns about her reaction to the situation on the whole, but I figured by the time she got her father on-board and the rest of her family in on the development, she would hear more than just me cheering her on into the next phase of her life. I thought about her place and how she kept it and smiled that I got to be there with her in it again not knowing it was going to be the last time.

April 1st, 2015 April Fool's Day But No Joking Around.

It was an early Wednesday morning, and the weather in Minneapolis was moderate compared to the continued heat-wave being experienced in Kull's neck of the woods. Our text conversation the day before was short but sweet. 

"If there's any truth to sharing pregnancy sensations..my gut went on standstill today, and I'm cramping." I text her. 
"Wow. Maybe. I've been really crampy today and last night. She replied. 
"I'm gonna look up remedies when I get a chance..I'm swamped at the office." I text 
"Yup. I haven't worked out in forever either :( I guess that's not true but it feels like that. 
You don't have to. I can handle it. Tea. Water, rest, vitamins, rest. I've looked it all up." She continued to text.
"You look great...so you probably can get by with a maintaining level exercise...especially after the marathon." I replied. 
"Well thanks but I need exercise for my mental well being too." She text. 

"I've gotta keep plugging away here. Enjoy your afternoon." I text continuing to be concerned telling the billing office girls I was experiencing pregnancy symptoms. They laughed but also brought up a legitimate concern about the cramps. Later she sent me a picture of her remedy to feeling better; it was a juice smoothy she put together while vegging on her couch doing her favorite thing-watching Buffy. "....maybe get some electrolytes in there." I added. "Always with the advice," She replied. "I'm just trying to be helpful. That's all." And so went the conversation.

One Week Before..
The week after my departure from the marathon weekend was a hit or miss in communication with Kull as she was on her way out to see her father in Texas. He had messaged me that he thought it was sad Kull was on her was down but hadn't mentioned me in the conversation as he clearly thought I should come along. I guess this is because the last they had spoken was just before we broke up only to find out we were pregnant a couple of days later. I really wanted to call him and tell him, but Kull was really uncomfortable at my old fashioned nature. Ya know. The days when men asked the father of the woman they loved for his approval or in this case just manning up and informing him, "Your daughter is pregnant, and I'm the father." The days seemed to be long gone it seemed. I waited for her to get to him and tell him. She text that he was happy as well as her letting me know she was "sober" during Spring Break in South Padre Island with her dad. I laughed because it was an annual ritual for her to go and drink away with her father for a long weekend during Spring break. But this year, something else was happening. Eventually, I messaged him exactly what I thought was appropriate, "Kull says your happy we're pregnant. I'm gonna take care of your little girl. I promise. Feel free to call me anytime just to talk or whatever." He never replied back, but then again, he's 70 years old and was new to social media. LOL.

Now, a week later, I was anxious as Kull really seemed to be doing what was normal pregnant woman stuff like napping, experiencing morning sickness, etc. It, the changing in her body, came with a roller coaster of emotions for her. "I'm reallly going to extremes emotionally. One minute I'm fine, and I'm happy.The next minute I'm lost and confused, and I'm not sure I can go through with it." She text me midweek. My response was the same, "One day at a time. You can call me anytime to talk." Because, as much as she was going up and down and maybe trying to avoid the wrong mood to communicate with me in, she had still not increased her talk time with me until one Thursday morning when she really needed to talk. 

"Ring. Ring. Ring." Went my phone realizing it was Kull. I let it go to voicemail. I started to panic emotionally. I didn't want to start a conversation after our off-text one that had started earlier and was going to lead to her talking to me less. I wanted her to feel she could have positive conversation with me more for the baby growing in her than myself, but I was at my end in still being keep away with a 10 foot pole. She text me, right after I updated my FB status that I was on lunch. "I guess she's watching my movement now." I thought making light of the fact that she had essentially accused me of keeping too close of tabs on her contributing to her reasoning behind needing to move on originally because of the anxiety that came with it. Not wanting to seem despondent to her, I did the next best thing, I voice text her back, "What do you want to speak about?" Trying to get an idea if she just wanted to have a "final say" talk about whatever we had been texting about or if she actually wanted to talk. "Forget it." She wrote back.

I called her that moment. "Hey. What's going on?" I said in a smooth a voice I could because I was actually really stressing in that moment. "I just want to talk to you. I feel I haven't been able to because I've been all over the place, and then we had that odd text conversation." She said half starting to get emotional. "I'm all over the place. I'm scared. I'm not sure if I can do this sometimes. I'm really home sick, and I just need to be there." She moved to another room in her office space to continue. 

Hearing her cry was heart-breaking every time. And now that she needed me for support, I couldn't be there to at least comfort her, but it was what she asked of me, "You agreed to not be in constant contact with me." "Hun. We just need to actually start talking more. I'm here waiting for you, but you've kept me so far away that I'm not sure how to talk to you because let's be honest. The only times, six to be exact, that you've called me was to essentially shit on me less the one phone call that was you telling me you were pregnant. How am I supposed to know what to expect when we talk so little, and it's only been stressful for me too." I said half emotional because in that moment we were reconnecting again...something that happened more readily in my absence and her alone in her thinking. "We have so many people wanting to be involved with us and our baby. We need to let people in. You need to let me in, so we can get on the team bandwagon. I can help you come home so you can do what you need to do here, and then we can tell who we need to we are gonna have a baby, but you need to let down the fence so we can do this together. Let's talk some more tonight and figure out how and when to get you home sooner than later." I said. "One day at a time, hun." Later that night we worked through different travel trips for Kull to come home. I felt relief for her reaching out to me. Something that the back office team noticed at my office noticed when I made it back into the office later that morning. 

Arranging her Memorial Day weekend return, of which I took care of half the cost and offered to fly her home in April, we concluded the best days for her to be off and back to work to minimize her PTO day usage. In either event, Memorial Day weekend was my pre-designated time to drive out to start our prepping together for our future. The next day she was fine and had, for the most part, stabilized emotionally. "I'm so much better today, Fil. Thank you for helping me with the ticket home." She wrote me. "I'm gonna get you that April ticket today. So just let me know if theses dates work." I wrote her back. It was Friday morning. "Let's hold off on those tickets. It's too much traveling for my lethargic ass." She text back. 

I didn't hear back from her till the following day, Saturday morning, when she text me. She was on her way out to Palm Springs with a few girlfriends for the weekend. I guess she was feeling less sick and needed to change up the scenery. The trip, as she had mentioned, had been part of a plan discussed weeks before but she had been unsure she was going to go and didn't bother to mention it to me. I didn't think much of it till the following day while looking up the weather for the weekend...another record breaking heat wave...again. In that, something else peculiar happened. One of the gals, that I had actually met and FB friended along the way, unfriended in the same day they were out for the weekend. I thought it was strange and highly coincidental. I asked Kull about it later to which she was uncertain as to why a gal she spending the weekend with would take the time to find me, out of all her FB friends, and unfriend me. It didn't make sense to me considering Kull and me were still talking and now having a baby! Maybe coincidental, but I didn't think so. "I'm not feeling so well again. I'm dizzy." She text me. "We're going to get some burgers and see if it helps." 

She called me later that day, Sunday, after making it back to her town. "Hey, how ya feelin?' I asked. "It was record breaking heat out there in the desert!" I said to which she replied, "How did you know that?" Questioning if I had looked up the tempt to where she was and trying to get me to admit that I had indeed done so. "I added it to my weather map, and it popped it up with all my other places of interest." I said. She was, already crabbing at me. "Why did you call me?!? To start a conflict because I know what the temp was in a town you said you were going to?" I said with some level of contempt attempting to hide my emotional panic. She realized what she was doing immediately, being bitchy, and backed off to talk. 

"I got a message from the maintenance team that they finally got around to changing the lock on my door. So your key won't work. I put the order in when I didn't think we were going to be talking anymore, and I needed a new lock anyway." She said in a polite and informative way. "I thought I should tell you so you knew before you got here." I thought it was a good thing considering the condition of her old deadbolt. She ended the conversation because her phone was classically going out of power, and she was not sure she was going to get more dizzy as she had stopped by the grocer to pick up a few things. 

Her dizziness only spiked my fear that she had overheated her body, again, in the desert as if the marathon hadn't been enough. "Get in some fluids." I text her later along with a carefully worded question regarding the new lock. "Will you be trusting me with a copy of the new key to your place?" It took her a while to respond, but she essentially said that I hadn't needed it the last couple of times, but if I needed one she would get me a copy. "I didn't need the key the last visit because you essentially didn't let me stay with you." I thought. When I called her later, she was unavailable due to being on the line with her mom it turned out. I guess. 

The next day, Monday, I asked about the unfriending situation that had occurred over the weekend via text as we had done during her work hours. 
 "Do you know why your friend "G" unfriended me?" I asked to which she admitted she "might" have said something to trigger it. 
"Does she know your pregnant?" Asking with some level of frustration.
"No. I wasn't going to tell her yet." She replied in a delayed manner.
"Hmmm. Were you drinking?" 
 "Yes. I only had a 1/2 a glass of wine." Again in a delayed manner.
 "Ya know, your girlfriends would likely frown upon you drinking if they knew you were pregnant!" I text her with some level of concern and anger. "I don't believe you had a 1/2 a glass of wine." I thought. There were too many coincidences in this week and weekend that made me wonder what was happening in her head. 

Wednesday April 1st. Approximately 8:00 AM Central Time. (6:00 AM PST).

Waiting for my PC to start up. I checked my phone. I hadn't heard back from Kull after her juice smoothy remedy drink conversation. "I guess she passed out and went to bed afterwards." I thought to myself. I was tense. My body was acting very strange, and my emotions were all over the place. "I guess you must be having a ruff morning, hun." I though acknowledging our now ever-growing shared experience of the pregnancy. I looked out the window to only see cloud cover, and then it came in-a text from Kull. It simply read, "Last night the cramps got worse, and I started bleeding. It doesn't look or feel good. I'm sorry to text this, but I'm totally fucked up right now. I don't know what to say to you..I've talked to my mom and the other Kull is going to come over as soon as she can."

I replied to her to keep me up to speed on things so that my day didn't go out the door in worry about her and what seemed to be some impossible delay in being able to go to an urgent care or somewhere.
I requested she call me and not text considering the nature of what was happening. She expressed her concern that it was going to mess my day up also. She apologized for having to inform that it had happened, a miscarry, but that she was reading that the worst had passed and that the rest just had to play out. Also, she needed some attention because of her blood-type. 

It was then that I realized she was trying to tell me she had miscarried, but she was so out of it that she didn't or couldn't find the words to express it. "That's why I can't talk about it." She text me.
"I don't know what to say to you right now"........"I am gonna keep my trip as planned. I need to see you. I need you." I text her back.
"I know. Me neigher. This is bad. I don't know that I can see you. I would say cancel it." She text followed by, "I can't. That's not what I need." 

This lead me to calling her. "I can't cancel my trip out there. I have appointments, contracts to review, and not to mention, all of the stuff we had planned. I guess that's over now, but I can't just not show up." I said emotionally and uncertain of what to do. "Right. I forgot about all that stuff." She said followed by her inability to want to see me as of yet. "OK. Get some rest. Take care of yourself and keep me updated on what's happening with you." I said letting her go, and she did update me as she could. Eventually she text me that she was got into a place for early in the afternoon where that had to 'squeeze' her into the schedule. We text a bit more, but in the end she stated the obvious, "....there's nothing we can do at this point." "I guess not. " I thought to myself remaining quiet as the team started making it into the office. I was consumed with sorrow so much so I was having a hard time breathing. The sensation of emptiness filled me, and I wasn't sure what to do, so I text her again. 

"I want you to know I love you....even when you made it hard to. And I promise I loved our baby that was to be too....even if it was only for this small period of time..." I texted her.
"I know love." She replied. 
"Too little. We had too little time for us. I can't stop crying.." I text her trying to not let my staff see I was going down emotionally because I knew it was over for us. We, Kull and me were going to be over as a couple now that the one person who brought back together so we could heal was gone. 

Kull went into and out of contact with me over the following morning hours. We decided we would talk after her appointment that didn't get scheduled till 1:45 later that day. Hours had gone by before she was seen and ultrasounded. Her friend had made it to where ever she managed to get into. After which she called me. "It's over. The pregnancy is gone." Is what she said. I didn't think that in her shock and likely survival mode mentality as much as my own, what to expect her to say, and I didn't handle it well at all.

"What did they say happened?" I asked.
"There's nothing we can do about it know!" She said in a pointed tone. 
"Are we gonna get to talk about this when I get in cause I'm guessing we're done now too?" I said because I needed or at least wanted to have closure. After all, it was only yesterday that we had said to each other that we were excited we were excited to see the other person and gonna have time to plan what was supposed to be our very immediate future together as a family. 
"Yes. We're done. We were only together because of the baby." She said emphatically. 
"Yeah. You're right. There's nothing we can do about it now...." slowing my words and lowering my vocal tone and mentality about what had just happened. Then it shifted, "..But there was plenty you could've done before or not done before." I said in an out raged voice and tone.
"Are you blaming me for this Fil! You're a real piece of work, you F'n A-hole." 

And so went the conversation and now my very not so calm explanation of what she could've done. I was hurting, angry, and highly accusatory of her all of the events leading up to the week had communicated exactly that...her way out. 
"You didn't want our baby. You wanted out!" And, although I said murderous it was not me calling her one but calling her activities behind it that....the part she didn't hear in our over-polarized conversation. "The marathon. The drinking. The extreme weather exposure. Not taking advise. etc. etc." I admit I was very off in saying those things to her the same day she miscarried in my own rage of loss, but I never threaten to show up anywhere to see her as she seemed to believe had happened when I said I was still going to keep my trip as scheduled. I said a lot of other things, but none that involved her safety. After all, she was my family now even if she had rejected me immediately after our loss. Even after she had kept me at a distance every day that mattered as our baby was still alive and in her. "How does it feel to know you don't have control over something important to you!?" Is what rang in my head; it was something she had said to me that had given me the exact impression of the outcome that was now transpiring. I had a reason to be angry, but it is not in my nature to consciously hurt anyone. "There you go again with threat 4001!" We hung up. Or, rather I did to stop the damaging talk. It's all I could do. 

A follow up text to her explaining that there was never a reason before or even now for her to be terrified about how much of everything I remembered she said, did, etc., but as she text back wishing that it wasn't my perspective that I felt she had done all she could (or not) to miscarry. It was the end of our talking that evening. I drove around town and posted on my FB account what in raw form what had just happened. I had been robbed of my joy. It was true-I not only lost my baby, but with it, I also lost the woman I was trying to love. I failed myself and more importantly, I failed her, miserably in those very critical moments that day. We both text each other to never text the other person again only to keep the line open the next day after the heat of the night cooled between us. After a sleepless night, I on my way into LA the next day into the unknown. Fortunately, I had a couple of the guys and one other local take me in as my obvious plans on where to stay had changed. 

Sunday, April 5, Easter Sunday,  Ollie's Duck & Dive, Approximately 5:10 PM.

We didn't speak on the phone till Sunday when I been in town walking around like a zombie, and this prompted me to go for a run...a long one that lasted 13 miles some of which I choked up with tears. As was our custom when we ran long miles, I headed to Ollies to attempt to eat a real meal for the first time in days. A text came in from Kull much like the last few ones asking that I not blame her for the miscarriage, and that she wanted there to be peace between us, and more importantly, to take down all the pics I had put on the blog.

"You're sure asking a lot from me considering you're not willing to see me or give me an hour of face time for closure on our loss." I texted.
"I you have something to say to me, you can f'n call and not do this passive/aggressive shit you do with people." 
"I'm not gonna take any pictures down from my blog. I'm gonna tell my story of what happened to me. I'm not trying to hurt you nor do I get any pleasure from you hurting. That's all in your head to think that I would get pleasure from trying to hurt you." I text her in the ruff. She had convinced herself that it was my mission to hurt her by talking about my experience with her and what had happened to us in my blog. It wasn't like she didn't know I blogged about my life. I had told her countless times to take a look at it. I got why she didn't, and I loved her for wanting to get to know me. But, now it just seemed as it always did, that she was sweet talking me to get something she wanted-- she was honey potting me.

 A few back and forth text messages where exchanged, but that was it. Eventually I left the place to watch the sun set where we would from time to time joking say, "God, what a terrible life we have!" watching the from our car the glowing red fireball drop below the water line. It was a place I grew fond of because of her, and when she couldn't be with me, I would often go and walk around it on my own wondering how the hell we had both ended up there in the first place and what had drawn us together.

We actually spoke for a bit. I attempted to keep my cool but did express some anger. I asked her some important questions about the situation, and how we had somehow dropped the ball in doing better, but more importantly why it was so important to her to run the marathon.

"Why did you run the race? What were you or who were you trying to prove something too?" I said quickly and assertively. She was quiet, and didn't say anything. "I mean you knew you were a high-risk pregnancy. Was putting our child's life at risk worth running that damn race?" What came out of her mouth next floored me.

"I didn't think I was a high risk pregnancy." She said with a bit of confusion in her tone. "What?" I said with some surprise. "You Googled all of those things about running the race, how to diet, and do's and don'ts and somewhere in there you're tell me you didn't know you 'are a high risk' pregnancy...it didn't register? Really? Come on Kull." I said. 

"I don't understand why you wouldn't listen to you doctor boyfriend about what might happen." 
Again, it was all about her, in my mind till it made sense to me that she was still messed up from the hormones, the shock of it, etc., and in denial before the race maybe hoping she wouldn't have to deal with it.

"Fil, I didn't do this. This is something that happened to me. I'm not going to beat myself up over it, and you believing that I would do this on purpose is piercing my heart." She said starting to become emotional. I wept as she said it, and then I hung up so she didn't have to hear me cry. I text her so she knew I wasn't trying to be rude in that moment or cut her off, but I needed to get it together. I missed her so much, and not seeing her was killing me. The fact that she talked to me in those fleeting moments gave me some relief that at least let me breathe better that night. I called back to apologize, and we said good bye to each other as her other girlfriend's had arrived for food at some random place. One of them from the Palm Spring weekend. "I wonder if she even knows now after all this." I thought to myself. 

I left and headed by to Fallon's only to get sucked into driving over to King's Head to sing....the one thing I did have control over in that moment. My voice had been shot as my immune system had taken a nose dive and my adrenals burnt out starting the day we lost our baby. The random nose bleeds didn't help much either, but I knew it wasn't all my own experience but a shared one.

The next morning I crafted a text to Kull to keep a sense of good will between us as she was right, she was a good person as much as I am, but even good people make mistakes. Hopefully, the people that our mistakes affect the most can find it in them to let them go. It read,

Morning...the mornings have been hard..I am so happy you have the 'other Kull' here so you're not alone as we couldn't be 'there' for one another. I deeply care for you still--I know that's hard to believe right now, but try. You are NOT in HARMS way. NO stalking/tracking/following of you has occurred--You need to know this is true: there is no reason to be scared of me. You said again "we have/had something special" and in my person, I knew when you said it again last night it meant you had/were Fallin for me as much as I was you...and then our insecurities, past relationships, etc...got in the way...changed our thinking about what the other person was doing. The Story is about understanding our misunderstandings and how in our trying to stay connected we made ourselves vulnerable, and that is scary, hard, and requires courage. We did our part to mess it up. You're so much more courageous than me at times...that's what I love about you...even now in our loss. You are strong. You are brave. You are beautiful, and the imperfections/and things you were insecure about..I never saw. I loved you for you...and you being able to share those things with me, made me feel I wasn't just another notch on your belt. I hope you can let the fear go enough to see what happened...our truth, and find real peace between us. Cause you are right, like most times, in that we had and are, special...even as we go our separate ways. 

Her response read, "Thank you for that Fil. Today has been an especially hard day for me as I've been in fight or flight I think. I appreciate your kind words."

Later at dinner with my buddy Fallon, I went over what my plan would now look like for a transition over to the coast. He recommended that Kull and me actually meet with a grievance counselor so we could bring closure to all that had happened between us including the our lost pregnancy. "It's good to do that. It will help you both heal. I would just schedule an appointment with a pro, and send her the information with basic message that she can make it or not." He said simply. "You should do the same tomorrow. Tell her to meet you somewhere convenient but public so you can have a few minutes, eat, and have some face time to say good bye." I agreed. I sent her the note essentially giving her a time after her normal work time including enough drive time with the and understanding that if she didn't get back me or show up, I would understand.

My last day in town was met with rain! It was incredible because it's so rare to experience in L.A. The only trouble with it is, like anywhere else, it slows traffic way down only making already slow traffic slower. The business day was ending. I hadn't heard from Kull, but I was determined to make use of the time and make the spot I mentioned at the right time. "I can't meet with you today. I just can't do it. I hope you understand. Safe travels." Is all she said. I asked her if I could call her, but she didn't get back to me till later when she threaten to take legal action if I wrote this story and all of the rest of the legal verbiage that could only be found on a web-site. It was the last I heard from her.

Wednesday April 21st, 2015 The Burke Center. Unsent Letters.

Looking out the window, snow is falling down in sheets. I can't believe it because it's almost my birthday. The lack of sun has been slowly taking what was left of my positive attitude away considering the last few weeks. Everyday has had its own number of challenges and difficulties. Yet, everyday I look West and smile now when I think of her and the time we did get to share. The sun is likely shining, and it's just about 72 degrees. In the office, I smile because it's game time here, and my personal life has everything and nothing to do with this place. I've written her so many letters over the months that I never sent. I'm not sure they would've helped anything, but I wrote them. All things are one....and written by the same hand. 

                                                  

Unsent letter #3....4/17/15

Hey Sweet pie, I'm not sure you were gonna read this, but if you do, one thing I will share with you is that in the writing of this story, I looked at our text messages that I still have dating back to last September 2014. In them, I could see you waiting for me. Hoping that the day would arrive that I'd pull up in my Jeep, and answer that "What's missing in this picture?" question. It was always me missing. I could see in our texts we had a lot of fun and good times, and I can see when things started to change for us. I'm so sorry I didn't make it there on time for you to believe it was gonna happen, and now that it finally is, it's not going to be the same. I'm not sure you still have any of those messages, but in them we had found acceptance in each other. We gave each other a free-pass from our pasts so much so that we joked about them from time to time; you could be you and I could be me. You allowed me to share a chance you were taking to be different in a way we could not be in home state. In the future, when you are not so tender and in pain and some of the anger leaves you, I hope our paths will cross so we can experience real peace and forgiveness. You are welcome to reach out to me anytime you want or need because you are, after all, family to me. I have no expectations of you, but I am hopeful in that special part of us that was/is connected. Thank you for loving me in your own way.

Take care of you. I love you sweet pie.
Bye for now.....
Your Golden Northstar..F, F, F.

POST LOG.

Sunday May 4th, 2015 Santa Monica, California

The days leading up to my arrival back into California were euphoric. Everything from getting on the plane to finding my rental, and eventually arriving at my friend's place in Malibu was memory and emotion laden. I spent times with the guys, shopped at the thrift stores in Santa Monica, and spoke with my mentor. No of it seemed to help extract the sensation that I was imploding. So I started to run. I began the long pathway run from Venice toward Santa Monica. I was still in shock it seemed, and every one of my steps were heavy. The miles were full of conversations I had had with Kull, laughs, and eventually tears. We had run that roadway so many times in our preparation for the marathon. Nearly a month had passed, and the long silence was killing me. "Maybe this is how it was supposed to go for us." I thought and likely said to myself as I ran past other people on the run-way. It was just past 3:00 PM, and sun was punishing me while purifying my body of anxiety. All I wanted to do was run. I wanted to run till I found her as if she was there somewhere also running the roadway.  My mind was flooded by thoughts of her, us, and our time there and what was supposed to be our future. I ran faster with every memory that resurfaced as if I was trying to catch up to them only to slow as the memory passed. 

When it was over, I made it back to my buddy Fallon's place to shower and ready myself for the afternoon and dinner with him. What I thought was 10 miles turned into just about 14 in total. I couldn't believe it, and apparently, I needed it. I needed to run the nervous energy out of me along with any of the pain that seemed to never really dull over the weeks. As I readied, Fallon walked in with a look of shock on his face due to a client schedule change. It essentially meant our dinner plans before karaoke were out.

"No worries man. I can find a few things to do. It's not my first time to Venice!" I laughed but began to subtly not know what to do. 

"I think I'm gonna go up to Zuma and watch the sun set and maybe grab a burger at Ollie's!" I yelled as he made his way out the door with some urgency. "Cool. I'll see ya later tonight." I caught him saying as he moved down the street faster than I'd seen him move in awhile. 

"Must be a good looking one." I thought while laughing at his movement. 

Before long, I was in my Challenger driving up the PCH. It was a car I was familiar with having rented others similar to it in my past visits. I felt strangely calm the closer I got to Malibu and Zuma. When I arrived, the beach was full and there were cars everywhere we used to park to watch the sun go down. Depending on the time of the year, it was a colorful display of reds, pinks, and yellows. "God I wish you were here." I whispered to Kull as if she could hear me. The waves crashed and the air cooled some. It was nearing 5:00 PM, and the run not only exhausted me, but made me super hungry. It was time to eat. 

As I pulled up the parking lot at in front of Ollie's, I checked to see if Kull's car was parked anywhere. I wanted to see her but not unexpectedly or at a place she might consider "hers" without an invitation. I didn't see it so I parked and walked in. There at the other end of the bar counter I saw an open seat, and next to it was a face that only angels could've have illuminated with the light that came from it. It was Kull! My heart jumped and began to race. I stopped as she turned to notice me, and cringed lightly only to look dead at me as she tried to distract herself with her phone. I waved my hand as to indicate I was leaving, but then I text her informing her I hadn't seen her car in the lot, and it was why I walked into the place.

"You know I come here on Sundays!" She text me back.

"Ring..Ring..." What are you doing here? She said in an uncertain tone of voice. 

"I didn't see your car. So, I came in. I'm sorry. I didn't expect to see you." I said as I started to walk back into the place followed by "May I join you for beer?" She watched my every step as if I was in slow motion.  

"Sure." She said as I reached her while placing my hand on her shoulder as I sat. She was trembling slightly with emotion and fear it turned out as we began to speak for the first time face-to-face since we spoke last. The bar staff, if they didn't already know, knew something was up. The entire bar staff knew us, and I ordered what we usually would order--a beer and a pretzel burger so bring some normal back into the air.   

Her sentiment was full of uncertainty at first, but as we spoke and understood the others' experience since April 1st, she calmed down, and time froze again for us. We laughed. We cried. We hugged, and we apologized to each other for various things. We drank and tried to eat some of our food, but at the end of it, we reconnected in a way that could only be described as a craving that was overdue its satisfying. As we drank and talked, we held hands. Periodically she would say something that angered me, and I would attempt to leave, but she didn't let me. This was especially true when she told me that she had made time to reconcile with Mark the man she was obsessing over during our pregnancy because they had had the same experience not so many months before I came into her life. She asked me to stay not letting my hand go, and I did. I didn't want to leave even in those moments. What I wanted to do was avoid saying the wrong thing or give out the wrong vibe to her. "I knew this was going to happen. I felt we were gonna meet this way. Ya know, kinda like my 6th sense." She said. "That, and we're connected you and me...without a doubt." I said half laughing while pressing my face into the side of her head to keep breathing her in like a drug I couldn't get enough of at once; one that we both needed from the other. Acceptance. Openness. Love.

It took a little bit of explaining to clear up some of the various none reality based thoughts she had created in her head one of which was that I was there to harm her for loosing our baby. This, as she realized in our relating, was completely off-based and not even true. Not even a little bit. She was now family to me after it all even after the tragedy of it all. It was really the product of fear and her imagination running in over-drive. This I would learn she got from her mother. The more we spoke our insecurities left us, and what was left were two people reconnecting in the moment, after what seemed an eternity of not having seen the other. It was clear we had missed each other by the affection we were so obviously and publicly sharing. It was in these few fleeting hours he acknowledged her love for me in all of it--something she had not acknowledged or admitted to either of us. 

As the night passed, we were unsure of what to do when the placed closed at 10:00 PM. We had spent the better part of five hours in the place and then more time outside in the night's air in her unsure what to do next.

"I don't want to leave you Kull! I'm not sure what to do right now, but maybe we can agree to meet up tomorrow after work to go over a few of the things we talked about tonight. Are you good with that?" I asked as she pulled her head up from my chest to look at me. 

"O.K." She said very obviously not wanting me to go either. 

"You're so beautiful Kull. I miss you like crazy." I said kissing her on the cheek as I continued to embrace her not wanting to let go either. We must've been in love along the way, and it was our baby that had given us a chance to at least get to that point in our passing time together; it was something she feared and only understood how to run from it when it was given to her, love, and look for it when it wasn't available.

"Fallon text me cause I'm supposed to be meeting him for karaoke, but I will do whatever you want to do. I know you work tomorrow. Maybe it's time to call it for the night." I said hoping she might ask me to come home with her noticing her embrace of me tighten. I reached down and kissed her...deeply and passionately. She was my girl. She was my family, and all I wanted to do was drive home with her and just hold her if nothing else. 

As we drove off and down the way to the Kanon-Dune pass, I watched her car turn left as I drove forward to Santa Monica. I was high on the emotions we just shared, her smell, her voice, and her touch. The much needed talking we had just done helped build a way to reconnecting and maybe finding some reconciliation. I couldn't believe how much I missed her in those moments. It felt right. It was all coming back to me. Well, it was coming back out of me because it hadn't really left...none of it even if I had made the effort to divert my attention elsewhere; I had stated to make new connections as much as she had re-established a few old ones from her past in our absence. All of our actions were necessary to keep our heads above water in those days and the ones that would follow. 

As the next day started, I knew Kull was going to wake, over-think what had happened the night before and our meeting up later in the day. I was waiting to see how her waking would go, and if she had gotten anxious over it soon to be evident by her immediate 7:00 AM text.

"Hey, I'm getting real nervous about meeting up with you this afternoon." She text me.

"I understand. Everything is going to be just fine. I promise. You're beautiful." I text her back.
"O.K. Thank you. I somehow needed that." She texted me back.

We exchanged a few more text messages as the day went on, but eventually she wanted to meet earlier and skip her gym session our of anxiety. I had one meeting I needed to attend to late morning, and then I just had to make it back up North to her place or wherever we were going to meet. When it was over, I set my Waze app for HOME bringing me to her exit.

The time read just after 4:00 PM, and she text me that she was on her way. Her blue Italian machine made me laughed cause I missed it, it's size and all the times it had driven us around town. I loved her car. As she got out, I snapped a pic of our two cars together. I could tell she was tense and informed me that only a couple of people knew we were meeting: one of the Kulls and her mom. Her mom called and texted her every so many minutes at one point during our drinking at the place; it would turn into a mental freak-out on her mom's part that we were together because in her mind I was only there to hurt my sweet girl. Kull called her to calm her down that to let her know things were just fine. More importantly, she was just trying to put out the fires she had started and had let burn over the last month of our not speaking. Now the collateral damage was likely further than one could account for short of a miracle. I knew it and tried not to make it another mountain for our ever so delicate of a reconnect to have to withstand.

We ordered a couple of drinks and apps as we reviewed what our talk was like the night before. She was much more closed off as we spoke. "I'm sure the hormones are still out of wack, and its just your familiarity that let me respond to you as I did last night." She said attempting to make sense of what she was feeling.

"I get it. I understand. You did say you loved me for the first time ever in our relationship yesterday. And not just once but a few times over the evening. I'm pretty sure that wasn't the hormones or the beer talking because it was also in your embrace and our reluctance to leave the other every time we discussed things that you or me were not so understanding of." I said watching for her reaction.

She shrugged in agreement but unsure what to do about it after all that had happened. So I reached out for her and put my hand on her shoulder. She was still distant as if she didn't want all of what she was experiencing to come back out or actually be real, but it was all there, and it was happening little by little.

"So, what we discussed is that we would do some or at least one grievance session with a therapist so we can understand what happened last month and why we believe what we do about the other.
"I'm not sure we need to do any therapy together. I'm sure we can do it on our own." She said with some level of discontent but detectable over-thought.
"Well, our agreement is I will take the blog story down until we work our things out and you participate in some therapy with me, and we figure out our shit. It doesn't mean we're gonna get back together or that you have to change the direction you feel you need to go with or without me." I said with some insecurity but in a comforting low tone of voice."

"My taking the blog down is me giving you a reason to believe what I've said to you in the past and what we can or should do now with the future. Otherwise the blog stays published because it is my defense against all the things you were saying before our baby passed. It was evident in your friends unfriending me even after we discovered you were expecting, our planning on moving into together after Memorial Day, and then what happened after April 1st. It seems you had been working hard at creating some social collateral so your decision would be supported...what ever those decisions were." I said not indicating that I was still uncertain what had actually happened with our pregnancy and how she handled it...how she handled me during it.

"It's not the couple's therapy I was hoping we were going to start during our pregnancy time together, but we needed it because of everything that has happened, and not to mention it will help us heal better, help us be more healthy in the future even if it doesn't involve each other, and all of this be more meaningful and not just a tragedy." I said as tears filled my eyes followed by, "You're only on the hook if I make it back..if I move here. If I don't, you can believe whatever you want about me, and I will accept it because we'll likely not be talking much, and I will have failed you overall."

She knew as well as I that all the emotions would settle out and the anger she had for me would likely go away...my part of it because I wasn't the only person with which she was angry. We still needed a third party to hear us out and listen because we, in and of ourselves, couldn't do it alone. We needed to be accountable for our words, and discuss our needs..even our secret ones. We both knew if we could talk it out, we could enjoy being amicable and maybe normal friends and do things with each other from time to time.

"But you know I was gonna keep our plans as we had discussed them. I was gonna make it happen when we had a family and future to plan, but I was waiting till we agreed to share publicly our future plans with everyone when you were to come home this Memorial Day." She was quiet and taking it all in..me, our history, and the ever growing number of texts and phone calls from her mother. Kull was growing nervous, so I invited her to go and walk around a bit to take the edge off of the day and the interference coming from her social network. We eventually ended up at her apartment where I waited on her steps for her to get ready, call her mom, and then meet me. She didn't want me to come in because of what she called a 'disaster' , but I also knew the other reason--we were 'on' even in the our absence,and being in a secluded place would lead to overdue intimacy and whatever else might follow. I put it out of my mind as I thought of her place. I laughed as it was usually me that cleaned up the peripheries of it when I visited, but it had been since the marathon that I was there last.

I handed her a flower bouquet I picked up for her dining area table; it was a small thing I did for her to help lighten up place, and since her cat Leo had died shortly after the race, I thought it was a kind thing to do along with a card expressing my feeling of loss for him too. Yeah. He died slowly she said, and it was something I had known in my person. When she told me the night before we both cried over it. She said, "I was gonna call you and tell you, but then I thought..." She thought I didn't care and wanted the worst for her, which was 100% untrue. We did clear most of the 'over-thinking' up the night before. She understood again, I would protect her, love her, and do whatever I could to find happiness again with each other, and if needed leave all that I knew behind to meet her half way just so she had a reason to believe in me again--"You're worth it!" I told her pulling her close for to take more of her in and kiss her.

"Yours or mine?" I asked pointing at her car then my rental. She pointed at hers, and I made my way over to it listening for the doors to unlock. It felt so good being there, and getting into her blue machine. That warm feeling that what you were about to do was just part of the natural routine of out day. As she drove, and I sat back not really sure it was happening, she yelled at another driver that, "Doesn't know how to drive !" She said as we pulled onto the 101S. :God! At least we know how to drive." She continued to say as we both laughed that in times past it was usually me showing a little bit of "road impatience" before she would tell me to calm it down, but after enough time in California traffic, she understood why I had been that way in the past when I drove.

On our way to the grocery store to get some of her meal stuff for the work week, we laughed until yet another text had come in to which she said, "Why cant't they leave us alone?!" with a touch of anger and defensiveness. I half smiled and mentioned they cared and were concerned because of what they didn't know..."The story between us that most people don't know." I touched her shoulder for a bit until we got into the parking lot at Ralph's.

As we walked up and down the isles and produce sections, we discussed recipes that we could share considering both our interest in wanting to stay fit when we get back to our regular gym lives and routines. The moments went by slowly until they, again, evaded time. Every step we took was exactly like the ones we had taken every time before when we shopped for food. Our laughs were the same when we saw things that reminded us how good we had it coming to California or other random experiences over the last year. As usual, we couldn't find where the eggs were kept because in California they're always in some illusive place in the store that was obviously there but just out of our view. We held hands between things. When it was over, the sun was setting, and she was hungry.

"We're always hungry it seems! Hahaha!" I said as she laughed in agreement, "I know.. right!"
"How about we drop off your stuff, you reassure your mom that you're not gonna get killed, and I'll get my stuff ready to fly out," I mentioned as we made our way back home via RANCHO.

Then we can go grab some Taco Bell or something." I said as we pulled up into her parking stall. "O.K. " She said in her soft voice and normal tone. I waited for her on her steps noticing the neighbor across the way. We'd spoken a number of times in the past, but he was a bit estranged by my presence. I didn't think about why. I actually didn't care because there was really only one or two reasons for his distance. What was important to me is that I was there with her..my girl..the woman I had fallen in love with during the fleeting days we had spent training for the longest run of her life and the most challenging days of my return to California. Our connection was deep and still shared. "Read the signs," I thought.

As the door opened, she came down in her ripped up jean shorts and long-sleeved shirt. She was again nervous but wanting to be with me. We drove in my car to the Taco Bell off of  "Rancho!" I said as we turned into the parking lot. A few hard-shell Taco Supremes later, we headed back to her place. Devouring her taco, "They have sour cream" she noted as the taco disappeared into her mouth. It was funny to listen to her eat cause it seemed she regained her appetite in those few moments around me as had I. As the time rolled forward, Kull was getting tense again more likely because of her concerned and freaking-out mother but also because she always did on the nights I left town to go back to the Home land. I loved that reaction from her secretly because I knew it meant she cared and missed my presence in her life in the past and evident now in our two afternoons together. I played stoic in our earlier days of it, but in the months leading up to that weekend, I was much more expressive of it all. I never really wanted to leave her, but I had to in days past so I could work and create what was needed to be there on those weekends. There was still our relational residue in us and between us. It was enough for me to continue believing as much as it would be for her if and when I made it back out to Cali to live.

"What time do you leave?" She asked.
"The usual 12:35 AM on Delta," I whispered back to her while holding her hand.
"I feel like today went by so quickly."
"Yeah, right!" She said as we looked at the clock on the dash that read 8:34 PM.
"I suppose you need to get to your meal prep for the week and calm your mom down?!" I said in a mildly inquisitive tone hoping she might change her mind and ask me to come up.
"Yeah. I gotta get ready, and I don't my mom to suffer and get too worked up. Today was something else at work knowing you were here and we were meeting after." She said.
"O.K. I'll walk you up to your door," I said softly.

As we rounded the parking lot bend to her the walk-way that leads to her place we held hands again for a moment. It was surreal, but it was actually happening. Nothing had changed but everything was different. I was calm. When we reached the top of her stairs, we hugged, and I kissed her on her cheek and forehead taking in her scent one last time. She watched me walk down, and just before I got to the walkway, I turned to see her looking at me.

I asked, "Do you still have our picture books?" Her knee-jerk response was, "No. I threw them away with your stuff." I looked down in disappointment hoping she might've kept one of them for me. I looked back up at her, and said, "O.K.," and turned. She interrupted my next step by saying, "Wait!" This immediately stopped me. "I still have them." She said mildly embarrassed that she had lied about it. We both laughed for a moment as I smiled saying, "Good. Hold on to one of them for me. I'll get it from you when I make it back. It might be little while, but I'm gonna make it Kull. I promise." She almost went to tears as I said it, but I didn't because I knew something she I didn't. I already had a job lined up there; it was part of our 'family-share space plan' that it was in town. I knew it was gonna happen, but I just didn't know when until a few days after my departure.

April 3rd, 2015, Long Beach California. Interview #2 With The Franchise Group

"Dr. Troy. It has been a pleasure meeting with you again today. I'm sorry to hear you and your significant are having pregnancy difficulties. I know these things can really put a damper on peoples' lives, but you showed up and performed in what could only be difficult circumstances. I will keep you two in my prayers. In so far as we are concerned, we're 100% on-board with you joining our ranks of doctors. I will strongly recommend you fill a supervisory and technique role." Dr. Rankin stated shaking my hand with a level of firmness that indicated he was willing to do whatever to make it happen...get me on board. I was already too comfortable in my lead role back in the Burke Center, and my work there had essentially funded all of my endeavors to find that very job I had just secured a few moments previous so that I could be with her and have a regular kind of life; it was gonna be good even if it was later than either of us wanted.

It was two days after we lost our baby, and the sting of it still penetrated my person and soul deeply as much as our immediate break-up. I was hoping the news would be welcomed by her when we spoke next, but I wasn't sure when that was going to happen. She text messaged me last that she was still trying to function and was still physically bleeding from the abrupt and unexpected miscarriage.
"Let me know. I'll be in town till Tuesday night late." I texted her back. It was the date our first OB appointment could be had, where an ultrasound and other tests would be done to determine where we were at in our pregnancy. Our best guess prior to it was about two month and a couple of weeks. It was just about the right time to see an OB doc, but it had left a lot of exposure time to regular life things one does not planning on being pregnant including the decision to run a marathon.

"Thank you Sir. I look forward to hammering out some of the compensation details, but more importantly a starting date. I can be here as soon as the first week in June or maybe the last week of May depending on when we can sign off on the details." I said with a high level of optimism. "I'll touch base with you next Wednesday when I'm back in my office." The deal was completed by the end of the next week with a 'soft' start date considering I wasn't sure I was gonna come at all because of both losses.

Approximately 9:10 PM. After shopping for groceries and Taco Bell in Kull's Parking Lot
From where I had parked my rental, I could see Kull moving around her apartment on the phone with her mother; she would later apologize for 'having lost it' in those last hours I spend with Kull before my departure. Checking the entire car out was now a routine because of the number of things I had lost along the way in past visit. I checked under the seats, the glove compartments, the door holders, and finally the trunk where I assembled the last of the articles that needed to go into my bag. I checked up at her place to find her peeping out to see if I was still there. I laughed, but eventually I grew quiet. I looked for her one last time catching her bobbing below the window in her kitchen attempting not to be seen watching me. "Love you sweet pie." I whispered into the air toward her. She stood up as I did it as if she had her me. Then, I drove forward onto the street way...slowly. I had no idea when I was going to make it back as I had on trips past. The loneliness that it presented was sharp, and I almost stopped my car, got out, and ran back to her door to hold her one last time, but I didn't. Instead I drove into the town down the way to take it in again.

Tuesday May 5th, Minnepolis Starbuck's E-mail To Kull 6:37 AM (CT)

The plain ride home was short. I fell asleep immediately and essential woke when the plane touched ground. "What the..!" As I came back into conscious. "It was real. I was there, and we spoke." I thought as I made my way off the plane and eventually to my Jeep. I didn't want the too many moments to pass, but when the time came I  texted Kull that I had made it back home. So many things had happened in those two afternoon/evenings we shared that I wanted to capture it; share it with her so she didn't get it wrong either, but more importantly, so she could have a record of it for validating what was shared. I drove to the Starbucks where we had first met just over a year before to write her. It was the same place I was sitting when she called me to inform me we were expecting, and it was the same I discovered the job I would be soon be going to work. It read as follows:

Good morning KULL,

Before the clarity of what we just experienced together escapes me, and you start to push it away from you out of defense, I had to write it down. Just so you know right know, what has happened between us the last two days is between you and me...apart from the people who need to know (Steves, your Kulls, etc.) IS ONLY BETWEEN YOU AND ME. Whatever more of interacting we will get to share, because there is value in doing so, I want you to know and believe is between us and will continue that way because it's important for you to be able to express yourself, us be able to express ourselves to each other in these critical days because like we both felt and agreed, our best healing will come out of it....because we are connected (without sounding new age). Please find it in your person to believe and trust me enough these things will be 'our personal stuff (for now)'. So we can have more and better experiences. Please believe me....

I had written you a note Monday morning after I woke up from our Sunday evening experience because it was powerful, healing, revealing of how we ALSO felt before the fear, anxiety, etc.  It was a very much a needed event. I honestly thought you were going to be more like you were last night-guarded, stand-offish, and unsure of what to think about what you were feeling, why you felt it, and what do we do with it now....., but you were right there with me being affectionate, open, honest, and real--we got (understood) each other again!!

On Sunday, where we spent the better part of FIVE hours together in what could've only been described as in peace with each other..Yeah it took a little bit of time to get you to let go of how "worked up" you had gotten yourself about me, but eventually you did. You held my hand. You hugged me. You opened up yourself to me, and I listened and responded to you with affection, touch, and (I know) some kissing you. In it, we understood we have that deep unexplained connection that brought us to that very spot together that day. It was beautiful, and it left you super confused. You told me you LOVE me for the first time ever, and I knew you meant it, and I knew it scared you sharing it with me and really acknowledging it for yourself...cause you said it a few times. People don't say those things willy-nilly even after a few beers and what we went through, but I suppose a couple of beers helped let our defenses down. LOL. It is this emotion that is so deep, to actually know we have it is scary, and it makes us super vulnerable, and it seems to make you be super sensative, but you did it!! You saw it. You can see how our connection is rooted in it, and how that connection is what brought us together on Sunday. We love each other...I know....I know...It doesn't mean we should be together, but it doesn't mean we should just throw it out. You and I need breathing  time, which is what you've been getting, and it's been painful for you and me....Till we ran into each other on Sunday.

You can explain it away as any number of things, but there's been enough time gone by where it can't just be 'hormones' running around in you causing all of those things I saw you feeling. You were even last night being protective of "US" even though you were somewhat on the edge about what to do with, again, that deep sensation that it was "right' to be there with me. I get what you told me, that I had treated you in a way that night that was unforgiveable, and that all of what we are doing or maybe even had done, is now tainted by that. Please don't judge me and all of my person as just that one act. I am a good person and a human being....we fuck up, sometimes, in extreme circumstances..I can and did ask you to forgive me...In your person I feel you want to because of, again, that connected part of us. I feel you will, and we may be able to share time together again. You will never read my story, but I want you to know that I wrote it so you can see that I did fuck up, I was admitting it publicly, not just that night but in response to what we did together before it. I knew neither of us could bring us back to the table to reconcile, but someone else had to...and that person come from both of us and was our surprise morning call before the race.

We spent the better part of FIVE hours together, and we didn't really want to leave each other except we had to cause of the time, and work, etc.....Even before then end of the night, we couldn't leave the other person even if at points we thought we should just like yesterday until you needed to be alone cause of how you felt..beyond just being familiar. We haven't had familiar in over TWO months. You shared with me how you lost three people-including Leo, but you don't have too!! You don't have to lose me. We can still exists in a very simple, private care-free way till we are at peace and not tense or anxious, etc. And I don't mean in a relationship from the past way. That one is over. I have no agenda for it, but in the future I am open to it because of our connection, but now you need time and space. Maybe this will come when you come to terms with that unexplainable connection we have. Cause I know right know you have a tendency to over-think things when we're not in front of each other and hence you were so much more closed on Monday versus how open you were on Sunday.

As much as it was uncomfortable, there was comfort in being next to you, listening to you both days (more Sunday). I know you want to 'get over it' and hope that it will be fine, and maybe it will be so, but we both know the "Universe" is working on our behave to bring about better things for you and me and from what we shared and a better chance at real healing.

There is no part of me that wants to keep you out of my life, or try and control anything anymore in regards to you, or do things that will keep you from me. You are my family...and I will continue to protect and love you. There is the part where you have to get to peace, allow some time when it's OK to, for us to relate. I think you are somewhat okay with it, but the part where you have strong emotions for me that make you scared because I may actually be the person you were supposed to be connected to all along and that you actually love me that way has gotta be mind-blowing, scary because of all that happened, and maybe calming when you leave the defenses down. This is why I feel you were able to hold my hand....all this time.

Finally, I hope you can see that our best healing will happen when we can do exactly what we did Sunday. It won't always be so extreme, and the more you are able to trust and believe, the more regular you feelings can be about me versus so extreme...but then again, deep love like that will do that to anyone....fight/flight because it's the core of our being that is on the table. In time, things will hopefully be normal between us like us getting your groceries, or having a taco in your car, or going for a run or doing some random activity that is better done with someone than alone. We will be able to laugh, etc. We can hopefully get back to that. I'm not trying to hold on to our old relationship at all. Please understand that. I am acknowledging that before we were, while we were, and after we were dating, and even now...we had been connected and maybe destined...

That's it. You already know how I feel about you.  Reach out to me if you need to instead of what we had been doing. Thank you. Thank you.

Filberto, Filbert, Fil

Her response to it a few hours later was short, acknowledging that it was true and that she needed to process some of it. We stayed in contact up until the week before she came home for the Memorial Day weekend. We joked and shared a few text as the days rolled up by. I had began the process of getting rid of anything I didn't need or I couldn't easily transport in my Jeep because I was leaving the Home Land again, and like Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting, I was going to check up on a girl in California and start over again. I had read somewhere the a person is no fool for giving up everything he cannot keep to find the one thing he cannot loose. I was going after them. The flickers of light, and the evidence in Kull's person that there was still a reason to show up, and I needed to make it if only to give her something to believe in and help grow her faith again. That's all I could ask for because from from the Creator because from those two things everything is possible.  

Thursday, May 28th, 2015, The Burke Center: 6:01 PM.

The day started with pulling the last of my belongings out of my place and stacking them into my Jeep. It was just past 9:00 AM, and I was now 100% mobile. Everything I owned, less a few containers I left at my Finnish friend and former girlfriend's new home, was in my Jeep neatly stacked and placed purposely in the various locations for easy access if needed on the road. I had my last day of work to fulfill, and before I got that far, there were small errands that needed to be ran. I had been essentially radio silent about my departure for a number of reasons to include the possibility I didn't actually make it and to not alarm Kull that I was actually coming out. I wanted it to be a subtle surprise that I hoped would include the bottle Moet champagne we had hoped to drink after the marathon but didn't for the obvious reason! 

After I hugged her and thanked her for contributing to my life and well-being, I made my way through the City and Loring Park slowing to taking a few pictures. Loring, as most people call it, had been my neighborhood before I had left to California the first time and had been where I spent nearly the entire two years of my return; it is where I felt at home the most when I visited in the days I lived in California and where I continue to return in visits that followed.

Stopping by Starbuck's on Hennepin, I made my way up to the counter to get a little bit of social banter from the baristas that worked. "I'm leaving for California today after I get off of work tonight!" They laughed and knew why I was going. They had seen it all happen from the beginning. They were there the day Kull walked into the place the first day we met. They had seen us together on her trips home to visit from California. They were there the day after we had broken up, and they were also there the day she called me to tell me she was pregnant! They had been given the short version of what was happening in my life. All of them supportive of what I was now about to do.."Go after her!" One of the gals said with tears in her eyes. The others waved at me as I left and they took a moment to stop what they were doing to say good-bye. As I left, I began to fill with joy! My steps felt light, and my mind was clear. It was gonna happen, and all I had to do was start driving after I got off of work.  

When I arrived at the office, the front desk manager, Ryan, stood to greet me with a smile and handshake. "How are you doing today doc?" He asked as I stopped to see who was on deck that day.
"I'm feeling good. I'm feeling like I'm ready to get to the end of the day." I said as I continued to my office area to get set-up for the day. There on the wall was the wooden print that Kull had given me as a Christmas present. I smiled looking at it and then took it down getting it ready to wrap up for the trip. It would be the signal that I had made it all the way to the place I was planning on seeing her if I made it as planned. Dani was in the back office minding the phones and mildly distracted by all the construction directly outside of the office windows. 
"It's gonna rain it looks like. The weather reports said it was going to cool down some, but I don't remember saying it was gonna rain!" I said to her as she smiled back in her subtle way.
"Hey! Are you ready?!" She asked as she pulled up the weather tracking for the country mildly recanting the route I was going to take West. 
"As ready as I can be I guess." I said half laughing, "Ha.Ha.Ha.Ha." 
"It looks like there is a severe weather system going the same direction you're passing through depending on when you leave and how far you get." She said with a mild touch of concern.
"Good to know. I'm sure I'll be O.K. Besides, I'll be in my Jeep, and I'm sure I can survive anything in that guy!" I said as we laughed together at it. 

As the afternoon rolled by and the patients came and went, I began composing an email to Kull letting her know I was on my way to California. I thought it was a good thing to do when the moment was right so she knew I was coming but also so she wouldn't freak-out, which is why I didn't send it till I was nearly halfway across the country. I knew where I was gonna drive to once I got there if we didn't connect in the days that followed, but first, I just had to get on the road and get there. As soon as the day drew close to an end, Dani came out with a card signed by the various office team members. It said a lot of nice things and warm wishes, but what stuck out to me was Dani's P.S. note that read, "Go get her!" Secretly or not, Dani had been witness to the entire relationship from start to finish and had been cheering for us as things had gotten ruff, and then turned worse in the weeks prior to that day until my birthday weekend when Kull and me reconnected. I thanked them for their kinds words and support of my endeavor, and that the reason I was going was because I had made a promise I intended to keep...win or loose. We were quiet for a few moments, and then it was over. The day had come to an end. I changed my clothes, and gave Ryan a hug and quietly left the office. It was 6:01 PM. 

I started driving within the next few minutes hoping I might make it to Kansas City, MO before I had to stop. I thought about stopping by my other peoples' places to say good-bye, but I didn't want to waste any daylight or time. I had a map that I was following, and the incoming weather reports were getting worse as the minutes passed giving me a few hour window of time before I would either be in the middle of tornado weather or miss it come morning. So, I drove as Maroon Five began playing in recesses of my head..Maps. "I miss the taste of the sweeter life. I miss the conversation. I searching for a soul tonight. I'm changing all of the stations. I'd like to think we had it all. We drew a map to a better place...So, I'm following a map that leads to you. There's nothing I can do.." 

Eventually, I made it to just outside of Kansas City ending the first six hours of my drive to California. I passed out in the passenger seat only to be awakened by the sound of strong winds blowing through the windows and the NPR guy saying, "It's 5:00 AM, Friday, May 29th, 2015." Getting out of the vehicle, I stumbled up to the rest stops facilities getting a mild chill from the wind and light mist. "It's gonna storm," I thought as I splashed water onto my face and tried to be more clear. The winds were picking up, and the light mist was starting to turn to rain. "I'm gonna have to beat that weather system or it'll slow me down too much. Before long, I was off and staying just ahead of the storm but not by much. As I cranked the speed out, I caught back up to the mist and then what was thick morning fog making the road difficult to see. It didn't really matter as I was going to have to stop anyway to refuel. 

Pulling into the next station, I saw it coming off in the distance. The storm and the lightning that preceded it. Everyone watched wondering whether or not to wait it out there under the station's shelter or take a chance and make a run for it. The ground began to swell with water that already began to cover my Keen sandals. I wasn't sure what to do, but a few minutes later, I didn't care. I have a jeep, and it's been through 'white-out' conditions in the mountain passes of Wyoming, been through flooding conditions all over the country, and dirt storms. I left the station and patted the hood of my Jeep as I made my way into the driver's seat and started him up. I was now just before 7:00 AM, and the sky was black apart from the lighting off in the distance. I didn't see any hail in any direction, so I started out of the shelter. It was then that the water came down in flood like fashion. I drove slower to keep a distance between the truck in front of me but also so I didn't go flying into a ditch that were now essentially full up of water running off of the road. I down shifted and turned on the heat to keep the windows clear, but ultimately it didn't matter, the water came down heavier than the wipers could clear it making the read virtually impossible to see less the hazard lights that had just got turned on by the vehicle in front of me. I followed suit by flicking mine on also while slowing down even more. 

Ahead was a single lane two-way bridge that was slopped upwards, and down from it ran a river of rain water that crashed at the bottom where the road met it for the ascend. A smaller vehicle was just to the side of it because it couldn't get past it. The truck ahead of me stopped a bit, and then began accelerating until he hit the wave of water and made it through and up. I wasn't sure that was the best move to make with a fully loaded cargo area, so I pulled the handle for the 4x4 to engage and left the Jeep down-shifted. As I hit the wall of curving water, my feet got wet from some minor water intake. I made it over, but the climb up was getting more difficult as visibility went to zero. In the blindness of the windshield, I opened the window and stock my head out only to find I was halfway up and the almost half the front wheels were under water. "Steady. Prepare for incoming water." I said out loud to myself as if I had a crew or someone else in the vehicle. It was at that moment that the "Check Engine" light came on. "Shit!" I said as I moved to turn off all the electronics including the blower and heater that instantly fogged up the inside windshield. 

Arriving to the close to the top of the bridge is where the engine began to stall. "What the F!" I said realizing that the engine was likely flooded out and needed to be level for the water to drain. I crested the top of the bridge, now windshield blind, when the engine stopped which is when I said, "Disengaging the 4x4. Shifting to all-wheel neutral." I hoped it would allowed me to cost just far enough with the last propulsion left from output as the engine stopped. Had I not made it past the crest of the bridge, I would've likely been stuck on it in a dangerous position considering the bridge and visibility. "Houston. We have a problem!" I laughed saying it into the air attempting to keep my cool. I waited listening to the rain continue to come down and my Jeep rock from side-to-side from the winds. A few minutes later I turned the key to power the system. All of the lights on the dash turned on; it was something that hadn't happened in over a year. The radio blared in utter static, and in the background I heard Kull say, "Jeez, that's nice to listen to!" as she would often say when the radio went to static from time to time obligating her to find another station!!. I laughed. Then, I turned the key, and with only a hint of hesitation, he started. "Houston, systems are a go! I repeat. The systems are go." I said as I rolled down the window a bit so I could see where the road was, and I started again drove for nearly another 350 miles before I stopped again.

Friday, May 29th, Somewhere between Kansas and New Mexico. Approximately 10:24 AM.

The sun was beating down on me, and having all the windows down for the fresh air was only mildly relieving. Driving at the speed of traffic on what was supposed to be a shorter route took me off of the Interstate and essentially put me into the country and highways. It was a bit more scenic but definitely slower time. I saw trains traveling 100 or more cars in length blow by me from time to time. I saw cows, horses, hills, barns, and every other kind of "America" one would hope to find leaving the Interstate. It was nice, but it also meant few phone towers and that turned into lost phone signal most of the time. It was in this mess of nothing that I brought up my email to Kull on my mobile that I composed a couple of days back essentially giving her the heads up that I was on my way. I got nervous thinking about it--the letter and what her reaction would be to it. "I guess I could just show up and knock on your door or pull into the parking lot at Ollies and start where we left off Kull." I said into the air to her. But the again, she usually complained if I hadn't informed her in the past about my potential showing up in the past so she could "plan."

As read through it section by section, I laughed at how much had happened between us and how much time we had actually spent with each other because we were both in different states. This being the case, we had done the best we could do until I was actually there as Kull had often planned future things between us based on this fact. The letter read as follows: 

Hey cutie...!
How's it going?! Not sure you got my last text or if you're just ignoring me :/, but this is text in case it didn't make it:. I'm on the road to Cali..Yup. It's actually gonna happen!! Not so long ago, we would count down the days left that I was gonna fly in and meet you somewhere.:) I emailed you that I was so you would know like you asked me to in the past. 
      I will admit I am a bit nervous sending you this email as much as you likely are receiving it from me--and I really don't want to have either of us feel that way...there's no need to. Hahaha. We should be laughing..well I am cause I just saw your favorite knock, knock joke! 
        But, take a breath!!! Everything is going to be just fine. There is nothing you have to do different! There is nothing that you need to worry about or be afraid. If anything you should be smiling, if not at your knock, knock joke than another person from the Home Land is there. And I'm sure you have a touch of freaking out happening too!!!! LOL. But, I hope not. I said I had no expectations of you other than you being open to believing in me again if I made it out (late albeit) but, I'm gonna make it unless my jeep finally dies in the next few days. I suppose it could happen!!! Lol.  You lost your faith in me I didn't make it to you when it mattered, but I still believe. 
         At least you have something real to believe in that I was being honest and sincere in my intentions in regards to you, then and now. The first was taking down the blog.
         I want good things and experiences with you and not what we've been doing or experiencing since April (less that part we saw each other last). I believe you were sincere with me then, and I want to believe you've been honest and sincere with me and yourself, now. It felt good to be with you (except for your people freaking out)..we laughed, we shared emotions, affection, etc. You and I in front of each other has and can be good when you are open with me. I'm not looking to get back together with you, but I do want to get to a place where we are content to see, talk and maybe share some activities like run, hike, work-out, be lazy, beach, catch, etc. etc. The only real difference will be that I'm not flying away tomorrow or a couple of days from now! You'll have your life, and I will have mine. 
         Life is too short to be anything other than on good terms between us, so let's try for that. I wrote you a long email about the reasons. :) This is between you and me like I said before (less the people that 'need' to know...although my mentor is dying.) You have my word and open hand to you.
I'm gonna try and make sunset at Zuma Sunday. Got a bottle of champagne I'm supposed to share with you...ya know..if you're free and have nothing going on.LOL. 
F.F.F......

When I finally hit the send button, I felt a relief that it was all actually happening. I was returning to California, and more importantly, I was going to meet with my girl and not have to rush off in a few days. We could begin, if we were going to get to, having a normal life. I kept on driving into what seemed like endless fields of grass. My signal was gone again, but when it returned a hand full of emails came through with it including one from Kull!

My heart started to pound as I looked at the picture that displays when I get messages or emails from her. I smiled nervously as the fuel light lit up on the dash. Before I opened it, I checked how far I needed to go before the next gas station; it was something that's less easy to do on Highway versus the plethora one can find on the interstate. When I didn't see any indications of one, I opened the Kull's email. I simply read:

Yes I have been doing my best to keep the distance. I'm sorry for that but I still have a lot of anger in me towards you. I was sincere with you when we met and I don't think I have given you any reason to think otherwise. I've had additional loss in my life as it seems you may soon as well. For that reason, in addition the the obvious, I still need to space so I can move forward. So I will not be able to meet you. Please don't take that as me being mean. I just think it's best for me not to. 

Safe travels and I'm happy you are achieving your goal of getting back to CA.
Sent from my iPhone

I took a deep breath and checked again for any indication there was a gas station somewhere up ahead, but there wasn't. Kull's lack of response to the last few text messages from the Memorial Day weekend was purposed. "Keep your cool. Breath. Remember all things happen for a reason. Speak calmly." I told myself. I as reread the email. Then I called her...

"Ring. Ring. Ring." The phone went. "Hello. Is something wrong with your Jeep?!" She said as she answered. 

"No. But, can you give me a few minutes? I'm getting close to running out of gas, and I'm a little lost cause of the inconsistent phone signals. I got your email reply, and I'm disappointed that you've been keeping your distance after all of the things we discussed. Are you freaking out or something?" I asked her knowing she had a tendency to over-think things.

"Not all. We worked that out when you were here last. I lost someone else in the last week, and I have so much anger towards you." She said with a notable sound of emotion in her tone. 

"I'm at work right now, and I can't talk about this." She said with more emotion.

"All of this is meaningless if you're not gonna keep your end of the deal. You actually said we were gonna get to work some of our recent loss issues out with a therapist. Where you not being sincere or real about that stuff and how you felt about me?" I said in as soft of a tone of voice that I could while not starting to get emotional and tear up. 

"I was home, and I've made some mistakes that have set me back  a few steps, and I'm not sure seeing you is a step forward." She said with obvious tears and emotion in her voice. 

"Mistakes?" I asked in an inquisitive tone. "I'm not concerned about what you did or didn't do Kull. I'm concerned about finding you where I'm supposed to and that we get to talk through some of this stuff at some point. It doesn't have to happen now, but when you're ready, but you said you would do your part, and I've clearly done and am doing mine. 

"O.K." She said in her sweet tone and likely pouted face. I missed her so much in those moments and hearing her voice was comforting but not when she was crying. "I"ll get my calendar out, and we'll figure out a date in the next couple of weeks, but I cant this week cause I'm still dealing with my loss."

"I understand honey. I'm not in a rush.  I'll be happy to see you whenever we agree to. I'm not a step backwards; I'm the step out of this mess we created. I know you have to go. I'll let you know when I get into town. If you're, free we'll meet. If not, I'll make due till we can find some time." I said to her getting ready to let her go. "Is that good for you?" I asked her and waited for her to acknowledge I was gonna reach out to her when I arrived.

"Woo.K.," She said again followed by, "I was being real with you when we met last."

"I know honey. That's why I'm on my way there...so you can believe in me again even if it doesn't go anywhere between us. Take care hun, and have a good weekend. Bye." I said as she repeated back to me the same. 

It was a euphoric moment until I could feel my Jeep running out of gas, and then it die. In the middle of America literally with no consistent phone signal and now no gas. "Ha.Ha.Ha.Ha." I laughed into the air as I pulled over. "I'm gonna make it honey! I'm gonna make it!" I yelled into the open corn fields not sure what was next. What I did know is that I was right about our connecting on my birthday weekend. It was real. It was timeless, and it was the emotional and interpersonal fuel I needed to get exactly where I was even if I was out of gas, on the side of the road, and in the middle of America! 

Sunday, May 31, 2015, The Pacific Coast Highway en route to Malibu. Approx. 6:15 PM. 

"Smmmmmh." I inhaled deeply taking in the cooler, ocean smelling air. "I'm here!" I thought as I looked at my phone. The drive through the desert was challenging with 115 degree heat and no A/C to cool the ride. The A/C works, but I didn't want to run the chance of the engine over-heating with the load and the heat, and I should mention cranking out the MPH to keep up with traffic. I was besides myself. "I made it." I texted one of my local friends to alert her I might actually make it up to her place at the end of the day if I needed. The road was full of Sunday drivers, and usually I'd be having a shit-fit about it, but after a two and a half-day drive, I could've cared less. I had just driven to California in my Jeep a second time in my life. As I saw all the familiar spots Kull and me had been to over the year, I laughed but them got tense and felt sorrow because I wasn't there for most of her experience. It was something she made light of in her text messages to me asking, "What's missing in this picture?" I would usually guess everything else but the fact that it was me! "You!!! Goofy! You're what's missing!" She said! I smiled at the possibility I could now not be missing and drove mildly faster as traffic allowed.

My heart raced with every turn of the road. Every bend had its own set of pictures as I passed the Malibu pass and eventually Pepperdine University. "I'm here!" I said into the air but not actually notifying Kull I had survived the rest of the drive after our phone call. I drove up and finally got to the intersection where I could turn off for Ollies--our burger place in Malibu. As the green arrow flashed, I pulled forward slowly grabbing my deodorant stick while putting away my dental floss and tooth brush. I had started to clean up so I wasn't a complete mess when I saw her....if she made it down to greet me and celebrate a little that I had, indeed, kept my promise to her and to myself. "It's been two years buddy since we were here together last. You made it. You got me here in one piece," I said to my Jeep as we pulled into the lot while knocking on the dash board a few times. Let's see where to park.

One Day Earlier, Phoenix, AZ. Jon's Family Home. 
"Well Fil... we're gonna cook dinner around 6:00 PM. I'll start cooking whenever you get back from visiting with your classmate." Jon said as we laughed and whistled at each other in code that we used in college. Meaningless whistles that could mean anything given the context, tone, etc. It was as if we never really got much past college in our friendship. Time for us was always at a standstill, and we picked up exactly where we left off the last time we'd run into each other, which in our case was exactly two years ago. Except then, I was headed in the opposite direction to the Homeland from California.

"Thanks buddy. I'll be back sooner than later. Sarah is an old-fashioned gal. I'm sure we'll be sipping sweet tea or lemonade in this heat!" It was true. The temperature was recording breaking..a phrase I've been getting used to over the last couple of months and last Winter. The Olympian as I often referred to her as lived on the opposite side of town. The was tall, blond, and beautiful when I met her in graduate school, and since had gotten married, had two children, and was essentially working from home to raise her kids. What I didn't know until the year before was that she was a reader of my blog story and had started keeping up with it when I announced a couple of year before that I had cancer and my time was likely coming. One of the 'Fab Four' on campus that were deemed at bit 'just out of touch' from the rest of the student body, Sarah was classy, put together well, and reminded me of how with her Canadian accent. She like the rest of the four were all fashion conscious, healthier than most people we knew, and were to top performers in our class. It turns out it was one of their reporting of some 'exam cheating' that had put them into the wrong end of the lime light. We were going to meet for the first time in five years almost exactly when it was that we became doctors.

When I finally found her in he maze of the mall I met her at, she stood out from the crowd with smile full of straight, white teeth that were accented by her long blond hair. "You still got it!" I said to her as she turned to see me. "Hey. There you are!" Reaching over and giving me a half hug. "I got us a table outside." "Great. I'm thirsty and hungry, but I'm gonna just eat lightly so I can leave some room to eat with my buddy from Israel. As we sat she gave me the update on the whereabouts of our former classmates, their successes or not, and what they ultimately ended up doing with themselves. She had had some complication with her license and citizenship somehow. In the end, she was right there in Phoenix, AZ living life. I related to her where I was at in my communication with Kull, and how I thought things may work out for better then the present but still uncertain. At one point I asked her what she thought of the blog story. Her response was a bit surprising.

"Well, your first story was a tear-jerker, and clearly the girl you were dating in it, Fae, was clearly crazy. This last one...this last one and how you created Kull's character was interesting. I feel I could know her. I'm sure some things had gone wrong between the two of you and some of it not. Whatever the mix, I felt I wanted to root for you two! You two should try and make it happen!" Sarah said in her Canadian accent and subtle look of support.

"Thank you," I said softly to her as the waitress filled my glass with more iced tea. We chatted a bit more about the book offers I had received for the first story, This Unbelievable Life, but now that the story had come full circle and was bring me back to California, I was gonna see if anyone would publish it as a series. "Whatever happens, I want a copy!" She said laughing as we both decided it was time to get back to our respective people. I walked her to her ramp, gave her a hug, and asked her to stay in touch. She agreed.

One Hour Later...Jon's backyard.
"So what happens when you get to California?" Jon asked serving me a burger. We laughed at the pile of them on the grill and the mildly cooling temperature.
"Well, I start my new job next week on Thursday. I've got a few HR things to do on day one, and then I get a short into how and where I'm supposed to work. After that, I'm not sure." Then biting into the burger.
"Where are you gonna live?" He asked.
"I've got a friend that's gonna let me stay at her place if I need to till I check out a few of the places I've been emailing people about. Her place is technically in Malibu but it's on the Valley side of the mountains. It's free less the road drive into and out of the place, and there is little phone reception." I mentioned scarfing down a few of the chips and another bite of the burger.
"What about Kull? What will happen when you see her?" He asked watching me pig out.
"I'm not sure. If it's anything like the last time we saw each other there will be some awkwardness to get around, but it will be good. We spoke yesterday, and she's still on board to do some talk therapy with a grievance counselor. She needs a little time to get herself together because she says she lost another friend recently, but we're gonna put it on the calendar." I said recanting what she had said to me during the phone call.

"Well, that's a good start. If you can understand where the other is at, how they got there and then the behavior that followed, you can achieve anything including reconciliation." Jon said. I knew it already, but hearing it from him only validated my desire to have her participate. The night ended, and I agreed to stay and listen to my friend preach a sermon; I hadn't heard one from him since we both delivered one in our undergraduate days almost 20 years ago. LOL. When it was over, I dismissed myself from his wife, children, and family. Within a few minutes, I set my WAZE app to Zuma beach, Malibu, and I was on my way into the desert heat.

Ollie's Duck & Dive, Malibu, California. Approximately 6:33 PM

I checked the parking lot for Kull's blue machine except this time I was trying to find her and not avoid her. I didn't see it on the one side, and as I made the approach to the door it wasn't in view on the other. Nicole greeted me as she usually did, "Long time!" She said looking for my better half to walk in behind me signaling she hadn't come in yet or at all. "I'll have a Jameson & Seven." I needed a drink to take the edge off of the drive, but also my ever growing anxiety that Kull wasn't gonna show up. I guess she didn't have to and it wasn't an actual plan we made, but I thought that maybe she might surprise. I yapped a bit with the bar staff as I often did when I was in town with and without Kull. Our previous experience there came to mind as I look around the room and made small talk with the bartender. When I was finished, I left and waved by to Nicole and Tom so I could make it down the hill to Zuma...exactly where Kull and me watched the sun set on previous visits.

The air was pleasant, and I was reaching carefully into the back of my Jeep to grab it, the print on plywood frame that Kull gave me for a Christmas present with my logo picture on it. It was proof that not only did my Jeep make it but also that I was really there this time. "Hey. I just drove here from Minnesota, and I want to capture the moment with a picture. Would you help me make history?!" I saw to a couple getting ready to leave the beach. The picture was priceless. It was also the one I took a moment after the fact to send to Kull with the question, "What's missing in this picture?" I laughed as I carefully put the picture back into most of its wrapping before I walked out into the sand. I waited for her to reply as the sun began set. A good 45 minutes later, I began to wonder. "I guess I better drive on up to her place. She might not have received the text." I thought as I made my way back to him..my green machine. Taking the Kannon Dunne exit, I made my way over the hill and eventually to her exit. When I arrived, I parked in front of her car. "Finally, both of you two are together." I said to both our vehicles and their obvious Minnesota plates. I laughed and then made my way into the parking lot. As I reached for my phone, I texted her, I'm here. Look out your window!" From where I was standing, I saw her grab the phone, and then look out. She looked amazing as she got closer to the patio door, and the look on her face was indifferent as she stood there for the moment while I waved and motioned to her to meet me at the bottom of her staircase....

THE END...

Background music from the story "The Pursuit of Happiness"
Miss You by The Rolling Stones
Let The Music Play by the Doobie Brothers
Stairway To Heaven as covered by Heart at the Kennedy Awards
Love Somebody by Maroon 5
Daylight by Maroon 5
Marry Me by Train
Just Give Me A Reason by Pink
I Don't Dance by Lee Brice
Sugar by Maroon 5
Do It Again by Steely Dan
Drunk on a plane by Dierks Bentley
Animals by Maroon 5
Take My Breath Away by Berlin
Uprising by MUSE Current Life Sound Track
Maps by Maroon 5
One Headlight by The Wallflowers
Wherever You Will Go by The Calling
Where The Streets Have No Name by U2
Have You Ever Seen The Rain? by Creedence Clearwater Revival