Dreams And Destiny

[Non-Fiction story. Circa 30 pages. This was written way back in 2013. People, names, situations, & events are/were real. It’s easier for me to write stories based on real people and events. The story is about me & my Significant Other and a guy who comes in between us. A fourth person, another girl, enters the picture and makes the situation worse, turning the love triangle into a “love square” involving three girls and one guy. The theme of the story is Fate/Wyrd. The story has a Theravada Buddhist tone to it, since I am a Buddhist. The story shows how Fate works and unfolds.

Dreams & Destiny

I had a weird dream just the other night. In the dream I was walking onto some school campus. The campus was in the middle of an empty field and there was only one structure on campus. The campus ground was the only plot of land with grass on it. I seemed to be walking toward the structure where I suppose the classes are.

Walking towards me were three cops in dark blue uniforms, complete with their cop hats. Each were holding a notepad and pencil. Behind the cops in the background were students. The cops seemed to be walking to me, so I became nervous. I looked behind me to see if they may have been walking to somebody behind me, but there was no one behind me.

The cop closest to me on my left had a typical cop mustache. He stopped in front of me and fiddled with his notepad and pencil as if to get ready to take notes. I figured I was going to be questions about something so I was becoming afraid. This cop asks me: “Excuse me ma’am, do you know where the restroom facilities are on this campus?”

A little incredulous and relieved, I answered: “Yeah, they should be over there, in the only building on campus. I can take you there?” So the three cops nodded with smiles and together said: “Thanks, we’ve been looking all over the place for it. We need to go bad.” As I was walking them to the building I was thinking to myself: what a bunch of dummies they were, I mean shit, there’s only one building on the whole of campus? Where have they been looking?

I stopped at the office and the principle lady came out with a concerned look on her face since she saw the cops behind me. I told the lady that the cops were looking for the restroom. The lady was relieved and said to me: “Oh, okay. You know what? We just installed new restroom facilities out back in the farm area. I’ve been wanting to test them out. Let’s bring the cops there and have them test them out.”

So we walked behind the only building to an empty field turned into a farm. I guess the students use it to plant things. To the left side of the field was a nice garden area with flowers and herbs, and at the right side was a large farm area where many plants grew. The restroom facility was an ugly wooden little structure in the middle of the nice garden area. I stayed behind as the lady led the cops to the bathroom, small talking with them. Standing there I was thinking to myself how odd it was to have a damn bathroom in the middle of a garden? Who designed this shit? One of the cops before entering the bathroom turns around and to be polite asks me: “Do you need to go too?” I said: “No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

A friend of mine I know well in real life enters the dream, walking up and standing next to me to my right. He’s Black, and a 5%er; taught me everything I know about it, so I look up to him. I notice him and said happily: “Shawn! What’s up!” And I gave him his usual hug. Shawn says: “Hey, have you seen all our plants? They’re all big with fruits and flowers!” He began to walk towards the farm area and I followed to go check out the vegetation and plants we apparently grew.

The farm area was like a little maze with aisles or rows of different types of plants. The first plants I saw were tall Sweet Pea Plants with beautiful purple flowers. I noticed the sweet pea pods were nice and big, larger then my thumb, and I said excitedly: “Look at the pods Shawn! They’re huge and plump. I bet you the peas taste sweet.” I was inspecting the sweet pea plants checking out the pods to make sure most of the peas inside were full and developed. In real life I love plants and gardens. Shawn told me that he had a surprise to show me, so he led me to the other side of the farm area.

We stopped at a Pumpkin plant growing upwards. Which isn’t how pumpkin plants usually grow. This one grew inside a wooden cage type thing to make the pumpkin plant grow upwards. Most of its pumpkins was ripe and orange. I looked around to see where exactly I was, and recognized the Pumpkin plant in front of me. Shawn had a big smile on his face, happy that I recognized the plant.

I was carrying in my hands things like a textbook and my pencil box. When I recognized the Pumpkin plant I dropped everything I was holding to the ground and covered my mouth. A flood of memories gushed into my head, and I gasped and said: “Aww. That’s the pumpkin plant me and K planted together.” I walked closer to it. Shawn pointed out a unripe pumpkin which looked like Brain Coral and said: “Check this one out, it looks like a brain.” He looked at me and noticed I was crying and he immediately excused himself saying: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you Chloe.”

I became weak in the knees and fell on my knees to the ground and began to cry very hard covering my eyes. My friend Shawn just knelt beside me, placing his arm around me to try and comfort me. I was crying so hard in the dream I woke up in bed crying.

I never grew a pumpkin plant with anyone in real life. But I know the symbolism behind it. My favourite season is Autumn. Something about the atmosphere, colors in the leaves, the branches of trees bare, the month of October, the pumpkin patches, and Thanksgiving, the smell of fresh cornbread, and the taste of pumpkin pie, all makes it a beautiful time. It’s not hot and not too cold, but just cold enough during the nights to cuddle up with someone, lulled to sleep with the comforting warmth of her body.

After 5 years of being in a deep and loving relationship with someone; five Autumn spent cuddling; it’s hard to sleep alone. You get so use to having someone next to you at night. Use to the smell of her hair. The soft fabric of her pajamas. The feel of her body pressed gently up against yours. The rhythmic movement of her chest, and her warm breath. The cute random noises she makes as she dreams, which wakes you up at night. The knowing that there is someone in the world who loves only you and no other person, and they are laying next to you. When all that is gone suddenly, it’s hard to sleep.

I had a distraughtful dream one night during the opening months of 2011 which shook me up inside deeply. In the dream I was in the restroom ready to brush my teeth since it was morning. I looked in the mirror in front of me and saw that my hair was short. I have never in my whole life had short hair. Horrified, I said to myself out loud [in the dream]: “What the fuck! When the hell did I cut my fucking hair? How come I can’t remember? Shit!” My hair was very short and up above my ears. After looking at it for a while, I realized that I still look alright with a short hair cut. I tried to fix it up a bit in front of the mirror, and figured the short hair might look good on me if I wear tank tops and tight jeans? So I felt better and commenced brushing my teeth.

As I was brushing my teeth in this dream, I felt my top left K9 tooth just fall out and onto my tongue. I freaked out horribly and spat the tooth onto my right hand and was horrified. I looked at my teeth in the mirror and just went beyond horror and straight into shock. I started to cry because I was ugly. I thought to myself as I was crying in the dream: “Great, I have short hair and a hole in my mouth. Now I’m ugly! I’m gunna kill myself!” I was so distraught and besides myself, I woke up crying.

In bed I quickly check my teeth with my tongue, and was immensely relieved to find out it was just a nightmare. Later that same day I went to my grandmother’s house to tell her of the dream I had, so she can interpret it for me. My grandmother – like all the old people in my family – knows how to traditionally interpret your dreams and they are very accurate. The main symbolism in the dream was the short hair, and the tooth falling out.

My grandmother said that if you have long hair and you dream of having short hair, or vise versa, it means your life will change significantly soon. By “change significantly” what she meant to say would be how we idiomatically say in English that “A new chapter in our life is beginning.” That saying implies that an old chapter will end, and a fresh new one will begin. In a book, each chapter has its own theme and plot, and cast of characters. Or say we were at the theater house watching a play. During the play you have several “Acts.” The curtains close in between each Act. The scenery is changed, the theme is changed, and the story line is changed slightly. So that’s what my grandmother meant by “change significantly.”

She said that when you dream of teeth falling out and there is blood in your mouth or on the tooth, it means that a blood kin and/or family member will either die or go away far where you will never see them again. If there is no blood, it means that a close friend or lover may die or go away and you will never see them again. My grandmother asked me if I was romantically involved with anyone, since in my dream, there was no blood when my tooth fell out. She doesn’t know anything about my love life or preferences, so I just lied to her and said I was single. So she was a bit perplexed and said that I might lose a close friend I love dearly soon.

I once asked the old people in my family where they learn this dream interpretation stuff from. Here in the West when we want to learn about interpreting our dreams we go to the occult section of a book store and read one of those goofy dream interpretation dictionaries. I knew that the old people got what they know from the old people before them, who got it from the old people before them. But how did it first start? Where did the original old people learn this stuff from if there were no occult books in ancient times?

It was an honest question, and I thought it was a good inquiring question. But one of the old grandpas seemed to take offense to my ignorance of the matter. He seemed partly annoyed and partly offended by my question and answered me roughly: “What kind of a question is that? Do you have brain?” I said: “Yes sir.” And he asked: “Do you have a life?” I said: “Yes sir.” And he answers: “You’re a Buddhist. Be mindful of what you think about in your head. Of what you wish for in your heart. Of what you dream about at night. And of your experiences in life. If you have dreams that have symbols and patterns that reoccur, and in your life you have events and situations re-occur after such dreams, then you can learn to correspond those symbols to the events in your life! What do I mean by being Mindful?” I answered roughly: “To pay close attention to the fine details of things.” And the old grandpa said: “That’s right. That’s where the old people learn this from. From being mindful of their how life works. And they teach what they learn down to their young ones, just as we teach it to you.”

Because these dreams come from Chitta – psyche or the unconscious mind – it means that usually the symbolism in our dreams are person specific. This means that if I dream of walking up hill and I have come to learn that it corresponds with financial difficulty I will soon experience in life, that interpretation won’t work for you. Why? Because you are a completely different person with your own chitta than me. BUT, when a group of people live together or are close – such as family, kin, and intimate friends – our chitta connects to each other. And so in such cases, the symbolism may often end up having the same interpretations. But this is not always the case.

My aunt-mom and uncle-dad sometimes argues over the meanings of dreams. In our culture it’s something ordinary to share what we dream about casually over dinner or something, and the adults will try to “Gat” the dream. Gat is Khmer for “Cut.” When you “Cut” the dream up, you “Break it down” as we say in some English speaking circles. And you can verify what the symbolism means by showing how “Chot” the interpretations are. “Chot” – should sort of rhyme with the English words ‘Coat’ & ‘Boat’ – means when a Prediction is Precise and Accurate.

You show your interpretation is chot by waiting for real world events in life to come which matches up with meanings of the symbolism in your dream. For example, my aunt-mom. When she dreams about a person giving or offering her fruits or food to eat, she knows such person or someone will either lie to her or is not being honest with her. And in real life every time she has this type of dream, the person she saw in the dream always lies to her or is dishonest near the time frame of the dream. When things bad or troubling happens in my life, I usually keep it to myself. Especially if such bad things come from me hanging out with bad friends. During high school, she’d ask me question about what I do with my friends and I would lie. She would have dreams of me offering her fruits a few nights later, and she’ll come sit me down and tell me she knows I’m not being dishonest and demand that I tell her the truth.

There was this one time in my junior high years when my bad friends peer pressured me to smoke cigarettes with them during our lunch break. After smoking cigarettes with them I’d dunk myself in perfume to mask the smell so my aunt-mom won’t know. I got away with this for a couple month. Until one day my aunt-mom sat on my bed one evening just before I was going to go to sleep and she said quietly to me: “You know, I had a dream the other night your late grandfather came to visit me.” My late grandfather is her father who past away a long while ago. Ignorant, I said: “Oh, that’s nice. What did you dream about?” My aunt-mom replied: “Your grandfather told me he saw you smoking cigarettes and asked me to ask you about it. He said he didn’t like you doing it. Are you smoking cigarettes?” I was mortified, and lying, I just said: “No. I’m not smoking anything. I’m good. I get good grades.” I was thinking to myself: “Jesus Christ. I can’t believe my dead grandpa ratted on me!” So my aunt-mom tells me the story about how my grandfather died, which I had never heard before.

My late grandfather was a heavy smoker, when he was 40 something he got a stroke and died soon after since at the time, the kingdom was very unstable and doctors were fleeing the country. In his death bed he asked one of his sons for one last cigarette. This son – my favourite uncle – refused to give him one and yelled at him saying: “You smoke yourself to death, and you still want one! I’m not giving you one!” My grandmother said my grandfather said to the son: “Please, just give your father one cigarette.” One of his daughters [an aunt of mine of course] was crying and handed him a cigarette, but my favourite uncle yanked the cigarette out of her hand and said to her: “Don’t you help him die!” He died with nobody giving him a cigarette. So his death and sickness was associated with cigarettes.

Anyways. A couple days later my aunt-mom comes in my room again. This time I know that she has special kinds of dreams. She says to me: “My dream I had last night tells me your lying to me. Are you smoking cigarettes? Tell me the truth and I won’t tell your little mom.” So I admitted that I was smoking, but that my friends made me do it, and I promised to stop doing it. My favourite uncle will kick your ass senseless if he sees you smoking because his father died from it; doesn’t matter if your just his nephew or niece, and not his own child. He’ll beat you silly, or he’ll just yell at you like he’s ready to kill you. That’s ‘tough love.’

So my grandmother had interpreted my dream I had for me. I knew pretty much who the person I was going to lose was. I just didn’t know how I would lose her. At the moment our relationship was fine and we were in love. I feared she then might die? So I often prayed for her to be safe. I had another sign of things to come given to me by my grandmother. She knows how to traditionally read your palm also.

A long time ago when me and my cousins were young we were at our grandmother house for a casual get-together. I think I was still in junior high, early teens. One of my cousins had asked our grandmother if she knows how to read palms and our grandmother said she did. So all of us girl cousins went to sit close around her and handed our hands to her so she can read them one by one. When you’re a girl and you’re that young, the only question you have on mind is who you’re going to marry in the future. So we all attentively watched which lines she looked at and what they mean so we can see which lines meant your husbands and stuff.

If you look at the side of your pinky finger and move your eyes down to the side of your palm, to the place where your pinky goes into your palm, you will see a spot with some lines or one line. The spot is on the same level as the knuckle of your pinky finger, but you want to look at the side of your palm. Not your knuckle or the inside of your palm. If you make a gentle fist you’ll see the lines in this spot become creases which makes them easier to see. Traditionally the old people read your right hand, and they only look at your left for confirmation of lines.

Our grandmother had pointed out to us that those line in this spot means how many “Khu” you will have in life. We didn’t wait for her to read our hand after that, we quickly just looked at our own hands for the lines, giggling, and comparing. I had two and said out loud: “Oh my god, I’m gunna have two husbands!” And I showed the others my Khu lines. A cousin of mine said: “Dang! Grandma I got three! What’s that mean?” Our grandmother explained to us that those lines don’t mean husbands or wives or people you will marry. A Khu in Khmer means “Couple/Pair,” but it has a specific meaning. A Khu is the person Fate has paired you up with in life. You may not always “marry” them. But you are Fated or Destined to meet them, fall in love and stay together for a very long time. They aren’t typical lovers, boyfriends or girlfriend. In English the closest idea to a Khu is a “soul mate.” Khu is pronounced with a soft K sound. It sounds exactly like the French word “Coup,” as in Coup d’etat, but as a Frenchman would say the word natively.

If you have two khu lines like I do, it doesn’t mean you’ll have two people/lover at the same time. It means in life Fate has paired you up with two people. Or that in life you are destined to meet and be with two people in a long-term relationship, during two different times. So if you have multiple khu lines, it naturally implies that one person you are Fated to meet and be with won’t last forever and must end before the time comes for you to meet the next one. The deeper the khu line, the more passionate the love. The longer the khu lines, the more years you will be together.

I showed our grandmother my khu lines and asked her to tell me more details. I have only two khu line and no little random lines in the spot. If you have little light random lines, those represent significant girlfriends and boyfriends. I have no other lines in that spot, just two very deep grooves, on both hands. Our grandmother said to me that I’m not the type of person to have random lovers. In my whole entire life, I will only be with two people. The relationships will both be very deep. But that I am destined to lose my first khu. My second khu line – the one below the first – is extremely long. It begins from the inside of my palm and stretches all the way to the back of my pinky knuckle. Grandma said that when the right time comes, I am Fated to meet my “real” khu in life, whom I will spend the rest of my natural life with. Sometimes in Life, Fate pairs us up with a khu only to teach us lessons which we will need for the next khu. A genuine “soul mate” relationship can’t happen, unless both partners are wise enough to know how to make that relationship work right. And Life teaches us our Wisdom the hard way: from direct experience and immersed exposure. Some lucky people are Fated to be with only one khu. It’s the people who have trouble learning the first time around, that are paired with multiple khus. The more khu lines you have, the more retarded you must be about Love in other words.


Anyways. With what I knew about my khu lines, and the interpretation of my distraughtful dream I had, I knew my long-term relationship with my “Someone” was soon coming to an end. I just didn’t know how it would end. Before I met my Someone, I really was never in a long-term relationship. She was my first “adult” relationship I had out of high school. I’m quite proud of myself for having the maturity to help make that relationship last 5 years. I knew inside, that my Someone was my first khu I was destined to meet and be with in life, and that Fate will bring it to an end one day.

So as a Buddhist mindful of Life and causality, you pay very close attention to the Flow of the relationship. If things should change, that change must arise from a cause. And so the Flow of life or a relationship is very much like a river which flows. Undisturbed, it will flow smoothly. Only when an object has been introduced in that flow will you see/feel a disturbance in the Force/Flow. So if a relationship must change, you watch out for the “pebbles” Fate will throw into that Flow of your relationship as a signpost to tell you that Fate has come to do its job.

For 4 years our relationship was fine. Sure we had fights, but we made up and things went back together. The Flow was constant, without much disturbance. It was about a couple months after I had that distraughtful dream that I sensed a disturbance in the Force/Flow.

I was with my someone at a casual house party with friends. Just hanging out, sharing food, and drinking. At one point during the party my someone got a phone call on her cell. She gets up and walks outside the apartment we were in. Never, ever, during my 4 years with her, has she ever walked out of a building to talk on the phone. Even if its a private conversation, she’ll just go to the room and slightly close the door. I had a curious look on my face seeing my someone walk out the door. Across from me was a trusted friend of mine who also had the same curious look. I look at him with my curious look, and flick my head towards the door, to nonverbally tell him to go outside and listen in on my someone’s conversation. My trusted friend immediately gets the hint, takes out his pack of smokes and quietly walks outside.

Several minutes later my trusted friend comes back and sits down and rejoins the party. A few minutes after that my Someone walks back in also to rejoin the party. I slipped into the kitchen where nobody was present when my Someone was occupied and my trusted friend quietly came to join me in the kitchen. Getting a beer for himself, I stand close to him. In my ear he says: “She sounded cheery. Lots of giggling. I heard the name ‘Marcos.’ She said she was at a party, and that she’d call him back later tonight. Some minutes of small talk followed.” He looked at me, as if to see if I recognized the name as just a mutual friend she and I had. I shook my head, and said quietly: “I don’t know him.” I gave my trusted friend a concerned look, and squeezed his shoulder, thanked him, and changed my face into a happy one and we rejoin the party. After the party, my someone eventually excused herself saying that she had to go to her mother’s house and won’t be back till late. I nodded and said that I should go sleep over at my little mom’s house anyways. I lived with my someone and her roommate part time, since I still stay at my little mom’s house at least once a week or so. I waited for her to tell me about her new friend Marcos… but she never did.

I have many old people in my family who worked in the politics sector when their old country was good. A lot of things I learn come from listening to the conversations they have together, and from what they will orally teach us when we sit quietly with them. I’m the only one of my girl cousins – and even boy cousins – who almost always attentively sits next to these old men when they get together and talk, because I’m just genuinely fascinated by the work they used to do and their experiences in life and being a member of a political regime.

One time during one of these gathering of old men at my grandma’s house one of the grandpas – a great uncle in English terms – had finished telling tales about his experience as in politics. In the old country he use to collect information and intelligence for his regime he was a part of. I was sitting with the old men along with an older boy cousin of mine who was also very interested in the experiences and wisdom of these old men. This grandpa turns to my older cousin and gives him oral lessons saying to him, and the rest of us roughly: “In our Buddhist culture we have a saying that goes: ‘In life, never walk a straight path too straight and a crooked path too crooked.’ Which one of you young ones can tell me what that saying means?” We each tried to decipher the saying, but failed.

So the grandpa explains to us: “It means that in life, if you are to be successful, you must have friends from all walks of life. Good friends and Bad friends. So when you are in the company of monks and nuns, elders and people who are morally disciplined, you walk their path to fit in, but never as straight as they walk their path. And when you are in the company of bad friends, criminals, outlaws, and so on, you walk their crooked path to fit in, but never too crooked like them. So you each must learn in life to pay your respects to religion, to god, to Buddha, and the monks; but never too straight where you are no longer free. And you must learn to make friends in the underworld. Smoke like they smoke, drink like they do, talk like they talk, have your girlfriends and boyfriends on the side like they do; but never too far where you are not free. Understand?”

We nodded and my cousin asked the question: “But why does a politician need bad friends?” So the grandpa says roughly back: “Well, to get work done in the world of politics, you need a network of trusted friends who can do you favours. You may need the rich for their financial contributions. You may need friends who are journalists and scholars. You may need friends who are actors, artists, and musicians. But you may need friends who are thieves to steel for you. You may need friends who kill, to do work for you. You may need friends who smuggle to help you out. You need friends from every walk of life, if your regime is to have and maintain power.”

He went on to say further that: “Before an intelligent person makes a move or decision, they first need to have information. You cannot ever make choices in life blindly. You need to know the terrain of an area before you can make intelligent decisions to generate a successful outcome. And so in politics, you need to have eyes and ears set up in every level of society. That is why you need friends from every walk of life. So that you always have friends who can pass to you information from their level of society. Never make choices in life blindly, because you will have to eat your own consequences. Stupid actions makes stupid outcomes.”

If you pay attention to living cultures around the world, you’ll see that many of these cultures pass down their ancestral wisdom in the form of things called “Saying,” and/or “Proverbs.” My own culture has hundreds of these. Each saying is a wound up, compacted, bit of folk wisdom born from experience. The cool thing about these compact “sayings” is that they are easy to remember, and when you unwind them, they reveal a bit of cultural wisdom born from experience. For instance in English there is a saying that goes: “Easy come, easy go.” It’s “exoterically” simple and easily remembered.

The cultural wisdom is found in the “esoteric” interpretation. In this case, the meaning of that saying is that what we don’t put much effort into, we easily lose, or what comes to us without effort is easily lost, or we easily lose interest in. And that actually teaches you an old ancestral bit of wisdom. That if you want something to last, you must devote a lot of effort into that something. That things you have fought for and worked hard for, you value more. For example we can compare ONA with a random start of Satanic group in cyberspace. Anton Long had devoted about ~40 years of effort into building up ONA. Whereas with many Satanic groups, all they do is simply create a free website or forum. And so we can see in real life that ONA has been around for 40 years, and isn’t going anywhere, but we have seen many other Satanic groups come and go in a matter of months.

The wisdom behind such saying is born from the experience of a culture or folk, and so, it must be verifiable by each generation’s experiences. In most living cultures around the world, the ancestral cultural wisdom is past down in such a manner, via “Sayings,” and “Proverbs.” And because these sayings are based on experience, it becomes such that the Old People – having the most experiences in life due to age – have the most collections of these sayings. And so, in my own culture; and many other cultures; we value our old people, because they really are a storehouse of your ancestral wisdom. It’s only in this sickened Western society that old people are disrespected and seen as being useless and “senile.” Because here in the West, in most cases we have lost sight/insight of our ancestral experience-born wisdom and we have deified text book knowledge, theories, ideologies, knowledge sans experience, and so forth.

So with the little tidbits I learn from old people like this, I try in real life to put them into practice. And so, over the space of 4 years, I slowly made friends with people who were close to my Someone. I knew where she worked, so I slowly made friends with people at her work place. I obviously knew where she lived, so I slowly made friends who lived in apartments across from her apartment. This way, I always have contacts – my eyes and ears – at her work place to tell me what she does at work. And with eyes and ears planted across her apartment, I can make a simple phone call or two to know exactly who comes and goes in and out of that apartment. These types of trusted friends are called your “Contacts.”

There is another class of trusted friends you make called your “Agents.” I learned how to make these types of friends in high school. When you are in high school and you are in the social competition to be popular you have many girls on campus who are all your competitors. To help you compete better you need to know what those competing bitches are thinking and talking about and doing and buying; everything. If you have a natural dharma for this type of social stuff you know that the bitch is going to talk and gossip her most intimate stuff to her best friend(s). So you keep an eye on those best friends and pick out the close friends of those best friends. This is because the best friends will naturally share shit with their close friends. You cultivate a friendship with the close friends of the bitches best friends. Those are your “agents.” With your agents, you have access to intimate details and information regarding your target person(s).

So at my Someone’s workplace I watched who she was closest too, and I made friends with friends of the ones she was closest too to set up as my “agent.” And also inside her own circle of friends I also made friends with those she was close to. So after 4 years of this, I had a network of eyes and ears surrounding my Someone. The only place she had any real privacy; where I didn’t have access to any information; was when she was in her car driving. Otherwise it just took a couple phone calls to find out what she was doing, who she was talking to on the phone, what things she tells her best friends which she doesn’t tell me, and who’s been in and out of her place.

This is where the practical importance of “codes” and ciphers comes in handy. I have a private ciphers I use to write things in which only I know. The best kept secrets are the ones you keep to yourself. I keep all my names and numbers of my contacts and agents one of these cipher scripts. Also for each contact and agent I have a small file which lists each persons full name, information about them, things they like, their birthdays, and so on. This is for cultivation of friendship reasons. This way, I never forget a name or birthday, and I know exactly what my special friends like as gifts and so on. All this information is also enciphered because you just don’t want people knowing you have secret files on them.

From my agents I eventually learned that my partner had met this Marcos guy at a party, thru a mutual friend of theirs. It must have been a party I declined to go to, since I’m not all that into booze parties. I also learned eventually from my agents that my partner had told her best friend that she really liked this guy and talked about him often. I learned from my contacts at her work place that during her lunch breaks, she doesn’t even eat lunch anymore, she just spent the whole hour talking on the phone with this guy. To get confirmation I opened her cell phone bill one time to look thru every call she made and how many minutes they lasted. I threw the bill away since I didn’t know how to seal the envelope back. up. It was shocking to see hours upon hours spent on her part on the phone with this guy. And yet, she never has said a word to me about her new friend to me up at that point in time.

Since she is obviously intimate with her best friend, her best friend has even hung out with this guy and her. So since I had “agents” who were friends of her best friend, I eventually learned what Marcos looked like, what city he generally lived in, and the exact place he worked at. So one day I brought a trusted friend with me for a drive to go buy something at Marcos’s work place. I had two basic intentions to go see this Marcos guy in person. One was to read his character type to see what type of person I was dealing with. Two, I wanted to assess how big he was so I’ll know how many of my boy cousins I’ll need to kick his ass later.

Posing as generic customers my friend and I walked into this guy’s workplace to buy something and I had my trusted friend [also a girl] initiate a conversation with him and speak most of the time. If the guy did not know me, it told me that my partner has not told him about me or showed him pictures of us together. This meant she was keeping secrets from both me and Marcos. The guy did not recognize me at all.

This guy was pretty tall, a dark tan complexion, Mexican. Built body, and oddly very well mannered? I had assumed he was a dog type guy who hits on and flirts with the nearest girl he sees. But my assumption was oddly incorrect. My friend and I tried to subtly flirt with him, but he was unresponsive? When he talked to each of us, his eyes did not wander, they just stayed kindly fixated on our eyes. He was genuinely nice. When he talked to us, the tone of his voice wasn’t that of some guy looking for ass. The car he drove was normal. If it were fixed up, it would suggest he’s the type to flaunt and vaunt his ego. But his truck was a normal truck, and his attitude and way he carried himself and way he spoke did not show a guy who had an ego. It was a brief five minute conversation, and then my friend and I left. In the car I confessed to my trusted friend: “I feel like hurling right now, seriously. I fucking like the guy. He’s nice. I can see myself dating him. It’s fucking sick.” My friend also said that she thought he was cool and asked me if I was going to go thru with the plan of having my cousins beat the shit out of him. I shook my head and said that something wasn’t right. He might not be the one at fault.

The Unraveling

Around 6ish months after I had my distraughtful dream the day came when my someone finally told me about her friend Marcos. The night before she told me, my partner had failed to come home. It was a usual night I slept over. I stay at her place and live with her and her gay boy room mate, who is a mutual friend of mine, about 5 days out of the week. Never in the 4 and something years we have been together was she ever not home to sleep.

Usually the three of us – me, her, and our roommate “L” – have dinner together at the table as a ‘family.’ This is something I’m used to from my own family, so I instilled it with the three of us. That night my someone was late for dinner, and me and L had already cooked our supper and had set the table. It’s not right in my culture at least, to eat before everyone gets to the table, so we waited a while thinking my someone was just late. Or actually we were both in denial. We knew where she was.

After 45 minutes of waiting I get very angry because the food is now cold and she could at least call one of us to tell us she will be late. L says to me: “You think we should called her?” I thought about my options and their consequences for a bit and I said back to L: “You think you can call her? I don’t want her thinking I’m some control freak.” So L called her, and failed to get a connection since her phone was off. We looked at each other for a while in silence, and I just said that we should eat without her, so we did. I paced back and forth in our living room after dinner while L sat there. Then we went into our respective rooms.

I sat there on the end of the bed that night until 1 in the morning waiting for her to come home. Looking out the window sometimes. My heart was throbbing in a painful way. I was biting my nails and eating my fingers, pacing back and forth. Thinking about things I didn’t want to think about and trying to figure out ways to deny this was all happening. I had spent some time staring at her diary. I just needed to know. But I couldn’t read her diary because if I see it and know, I know my knees will give in and I’ll cry crazy. L came into my room and asked me if I was alright. I didn’t say anything since my mind was on that diary. I said to L: “L, come here and do me a favour please. Look thru her diary for me and tell me what you see. I can’t do it myself.”

L puts his hands up and palms out and says scaredly, shaking his head: “Oh god… Chloe, please, don’t make me do this. She’s my friend too. I love the both of you to death. If she finds out…” I interrupted him and said: “Just please, please do it. You don’t have to tell me anything. I won’t tell her about this, I promise. Just read it and see how far they went. If you she made an entry about sex just put the diary down and say to me “I’m sorry,” and I’ll know enough. That’s all you need to do. Please help me out. It’s not your fault, I made you read it.” I shoved the diary into his hands and was already crying. L just nodded his head slowly, looked behind him to make sure “you know who” wasn’t in the apartment, and he opened the diary to go thru it. I had my arms crossed tightly over my solar plexus and went to sit on the foot of the bed as far away from L as possible. My heart was throbbing in a painful way so bad it felt like bursting out of my throat. After a brief moment of silence L just says: “I’m sorry Chloe.” So I turned around, kneeling on the floor, to muffle my face in the bed and I cried that night the hardest I’ve ever cried in my life.

It wasn’t fair I thought. To be a victim of Fate. How Fate is not human, without human feeling. Yet it toys with our lives and makes us feel the pain that we feel, which it never will feel itself. And tears our family and friendships apart. It takes our old people away from us. Takes our lovers and friends away. Things we worked so hard to make and have in life, it takes away. It will never know how much it hurts to lose someone you loved more than anything in the world. Five years I invested my time, life, energy, all my love, all my passion, every inch of my flesh into this relationship with her, and my end Dividend is the most horrific pain you will ever feel as a human being, and the loss of everything you have worked so hard to build.

I had a dream once long ago about destiny. In the dream I was on some stage sitting on a stool. A bright spot light was shining on me. Everything else was pitch dark. I looked around to figure out where I was and noticed I was on a stage of some type? An acoustic guitar popped into my arms, and so I strummed its strings for a while. I didn’t know how to play a guitar. But I know how to play the violin which I loved. So I was wanting to maybe learn to play the bass guitar it has 4 strings like a violin. Then from behind me a female voice said as I was strumming the strings: “You know Chloe, you are destined to be a musician in life.” I looked behind me to find the voice, but went back to playing with the guitar I had. Then the voice came back and added something like: “Remember what I told you. You are destined to be involved in the music industry.”

I woke up that day at first curious about the dream. But as the day went on at school I became more enraged. The idea that there is some invisible force out there which controls your life made me feel very angry. I walked home extremely upset that day. I marched home fast because I had the determination to go home and do something. On my way home that day I made a promise to myself and Satan that from that day on I will never touch a musical instrument again. Never go within 100 yard of a music shop. Never make friends who play any musical instruments. Never make friends who are connected with the music industry. Never write lyrics and never write poetry that look like songs for the rest of my life. I got home and took my violin out of my closet and went to throw it away. I was afraid that I’d dig my violin out of the trash bin, so I took it out of its case and stepped on it until it was broken into many pieces. Letting out a rage inside me.

I felt a little better after that and I said to myself or Fate: “I’d like to see you make a musician out of me now. I’ll keep fighting for the rest of my life and never touch an instrument again. I promise that. We’ll see who wins.” The next day at school I told a friend of mine about my dream and how I triumphantly stepped on my violin into pieces! I said to my friend that day all proud: “I showed destiny who’s boss didn’t I!?” My friend had a sarcastic sense of humor so he said back, as he patted my on the back: “Good for you! Yeah you sure showed destiny who’s boss alright. I mean shit, fuck being rich and famous right!?” I thought what he said was funny so I laughed, but he didn’t get the point. The immature point is to show Fate who’s boss!

So after that night of me crying harder than I ever did, I cried myself to sleep alone. In the morning I went to make coffee with our coffee machine. So as I was stirring my 3 table spoons of sugar into my black coffee, guess who decided to come home finally? I look at her, since the door can be seen from our kitchen. I was honestly more than happy to see her. I wanted to run to her and hug her because she came back. So she walked slowly to position herself across from me in the kitchen. She had a weird look on her face. One of fear, guilt, and uncertainty. But a look of also wanting to say and express something. I made things easy for her.

As a Buddhist you’re aware or are mindful of the Flow of Life. You know and understand the concept of causation. And so just like a river, if you are riding in a boat in a river which is rough, you understand that to further add rocks and boulders into that river will only cause the river to become further wild than it actually is, which in turn will affect you. So it is the same in relationships. If things are fucked up or if someone has made a mistake, to yell and scream and call that someone names, would only cause things to be worse than they are, which in turn affects you. So, even though I knew everything by now, I understood enough that I should just let go and let things flow as they will without me agitating her or the situation.

I broke the odd silence by saying to her: “I made coffee. You want some?” She just shook her head and didn’t seem interested in coffee. So she says to me: “Baby… I have something to tell you, but you have to promise that you won’t get angry. Do you promise?” I said I promised. I was already feeling shaky in the knees, and my heart was twisting. I thought about sitting down, but I mustered up enough energy and calmness to stand up and keep my composure and a look of confidence. She goes: “Sorry I didn’t come home last night. I was going to call you but my phone died. I was at a party last night with some friends. We were drinking and smoking pot. I was too drunk to drive home, so my friends said I should just sleep over. You wouldn’t want me to drive home drunk would you?”

I said, trying to sound caring: “What, drive drunk? No, of course not.” In my head I added: “God forbid… you drive off a freeway bridge and die!” I stood there for her to continue, but she didn’t. So I helped her get the rest out by saying: “Is that all? Did you sleep on the sofa? In the tub? The kitchen?”

She reluctantly says: “In my friend’s room, but he slept on the floor.” She just stands there looking at me. So I said: “He? And then?” She continues and says: “And then I felt sorry for him, so I said he can sleep on the bed too, as long as he promised to stay on his own side. That’s all that happened. I love you. That’s all that happened, I swear. He was good. He stayed on his side of the bed until the morning. I just wanted to tell you. Remember you promised me you wouldn’t get mad.”

I snickered. It’s hard to believe she expects me to not be angry, when you know the person you have loved so much and to whom you have given so much of yourself to has been unfaithful and slept with another person secretly behind your back. And somehow you can’t be angry or mad or upset? But I kept my word and smothered my anger or hurt, and never raised my voice at her that day.

I wasn’t sure how I was feeling. I was actually happy to see her home with me. I just wanted to hold her, and forget about everything. But I was hurt, knowing how far things went between them and knowing that she took 6 months to tell me about Marcos. And angry that she would do this to me. I felt like stuffing her in the fridge or pushing her out the window. I just looked at her. When I said nothing for a while she said: “Can you say something? You promised not to be angry.”

I took a deep breath and collected my composure and rational mind and I said to her in a normal calm and understanding voice: “I can’t say anything baby. I’d be a hypocrite if I did. I snuck around behind your back too, and you forgave me. It’s not in my place to condemn you for anything. I’m just happy you’re home now. I missed you last night. I really did. I still love deeply and want you. If you still love me and want me too, then you’ll do what’s right. That’s all I can say. The ball’s in your court.” She replied quickly: “I won’t see him again. I’ll do what’s right.” So I gave her a tight embrace, and we both lightly cried… for different reasons.

Only a month later after what I thought was the end of her affair with Marcos, she didn’t come home for two consecutive nights in a row. Two whole days she didn’t call me or come home. And so, in our room, I got very angry and I threw things at the wall and broke a lamp. Our poor roommate L came in quietly to just clean up after my tirade. I rushed into our kitchen to drink out of a bottle of Tequila and then after I drank a bit, I just left to go for a drive. I didn’t bother taking my purse or license. I just went to my car and spend off that evening.

Sometime you genuinely don’t care. I just stopped caring. I didn’t care if I got pulled over, if I went to jail, if I ran people over, if I got into a car accident and killed myself. Actually I was hurt enough to feel like killing myself. I made it to the freeway amazingly without getting hit or pulled over. Then on the freeway I drove as fast as my car can go for two hours one way. When I feel very upset, I like to drive with the radio or music on very loud and scream and cry my ass off until I exhaust myself. In a car nobody can hear you or bother you. And you can cry your eyes and ass off. You don’t bug nobody in the car, or disturb anybody’s flow of life.

I drive to the Valley, the Burbank and Van Nuys area, where I was born and raised. I usually park my car in the neighborhood where the apartment complex I used to live in as a little child is at. Then I just walk by myself around the general area, reminiscing. I guess it’s my way of just emotionally or psychologically trying to find my peace. Where I am walking in a place where I was once a child. When I had no worries in life. When I had nothing real to cry about. When all my simple needs were met by the providence of my parents. Things were so simple back then. But Time takes that all away from you. And all you have left of that lost carefree paradise are faint and distant memories, and old dark streets. In the apartments I was raised in as a child, there is a little garden area with lights and a bench near the pool. It has a tropical feel and there are flowers of different types around the place. As a child I used to play there with my little friends. So I just return to that place and sit quietly in that garden. For a long time. I went home that night late, but relaxed and at peace.

And Old Guard in ONA once quickly asked me what is Peace. Perhaps partly to himself, partly to me. Peace in Khmer is “Soukh,” or as it’s spelled in Pali Sukkha. Sukkha means the state in which a thing is undisturbed, unagitated. If you picture a small pond, happiness is when the pond’s surface wiggles. Sadness is when the surface of the pond waves slowly. And anger is when the pond splashes about violently. All of those feelings are actual agitations of the ponds surface because its natural state is stillness. That stillness where you neither feel happy or angry, excited or depressed, hopeful or disillusioned, where you are just still inside of heart and mind, is Peace. Holding onto those agitations causes dukkha, because they don’t last forever. They come and then go. Arise and fall. You can’t live life chasing happiness around, because it’s not real and it doesn’t last. But neither does sadness last. It’s best to learn to Let-Go. To learn to allow the agitations to come and go. To feel the feelings and think the thought as they arise and fall. To let yourself experience them, but also let them go. Not to desire to hold on or look for them, or to fight them.

I went to sleep when I made it home. I slept by myself since “you know who” was gone. But I slept peacefully that night alone, knowing inside how things were fated to be and what I needed to do. I’d break up with her when she comes home and let her free to find her happiness. I suppose I learned something driving home last night. I had a couple hours to reflect on my 4.5 years with my partner. We started when we were very young. That age is such a “volatile” age because in such a short period of time you can change into a different person with different views and needs. And so since both of us began our relationship so young and since the relationship lasted so long, Time did a number on us and we both changed into different people.

She came home in the afternoon, after missing and not calling me for two days. I was in our room doing something. Packing up. She had stopped at the doorway and was staring at the hole in the wall I made the other night when I was throwing objects around, and watching me collect my things. I started our conversation by saying: “You gunna come inside and talk or just stand there?” As she walks into our room with a nervous and guilty look I get up to shut the door behind her and stand there blocking it so she can’t run out. She joins the conversation saying: “Can I just explain myself first before you go off assuming things?”

I said back roughly: “I’m not assuming anything. I don’t care where you’ve been. I put in four years of my life into this relationship. I gave you four years of me. Everything I was, and had, I gave to you. And you do me like this? Do you know how disrespectful this is? I’ve never been disrespected like this in my life by anyone. And my reputation? What are people gunna think of me, knowing I was made a fool by you. Letting you step all over me, like I’m fucking cheap and stupid. I’m not going to let you do this to me. At least have the decency to break up with me instead of dragging my heart around on the ground into your escapades like this. I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything like this to you. I’ve never cheated on you with another person physically. And during the 4 and a half years we’ve been together I’ve never once even fantasied about being with any other person but you. I’m guilty of emotionally wandering. That much is true. But I loved you deep enough to never hurt you the way you’re hurting me now. We’re breaking up today. It’s over. I’m moving out.”

So I walk out of the room into the living room to get some more of my stuff to put in my car. She had come out into the living room saying: “No, please! We just went hiking Chloe! It was far, my phone ran out of batteries! It was a hot spring up north. I knew you were busy the two days so I didn’t ask you to come along. I’m not lying. I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t leave me. I won’t see him anymore. I promise. I made a mistake. I’m sorry. It was a stupid mistake! I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I’m stupid. I won’t see him anymore, I promise. Please believe me. Don’t do this to me. Please don’t leave me. You think I’m a whore don’t you?”

She begins to cry on the sofa very bad. I’ve known her for a long time, and I’ve never seen her cry that bad before. I was caught by surprise because I thought she would welcome the break up? But she was crying bad and wanted to stay together? I got a little frustrated so I screamed out: “God! What are you doing to me!” But there wasn’t much I could do or say. Seeing her cry like that and me still in love with her to death made me believe her. So I cried to because I really didn’t want to lose her. That day I cried hard with her and we held each other for a long time tightly. After a very long while, we both calmed and I said: “No, I don’t think you’re a whore… you’re just human, like me. Do you really want to work this out? I still love you.” And she nodded and said that she did want to work it out and that she loved me too still. So I said to her: “Okay. I’ll work it out for us.”

There is an unfortunate thing that comes with the territory of being a self aware Satanist or ONA pupil or Buddhist with self awareness of ones Nature. You know you are human and that you have something called human nature. And you know your own lover is also human, with the same human nature. The same human mistakes made. The same human drives and impulses. The same human flaws. The same human urges. The same human needs, desires, fantasies. It’s irrational to understand this human nature, and to hate her simply because she is being human. It may hurt, what she does, but she’s human. When you truly realize this inside, it’s hard to condemn the other person for her mistakes and human actions. You just have no choice, but to take the consequences of her actions and be hurt. Without condemnation and judgment.

A couple days later I was parked in the parking lot where the guy Marcos worked at. I had been there for a few hours just watching. I was taking note of his work schedule. I did this for a few days during different hours, mornings, lunch time, evenings, until I got his regular schedule down. When I had his schedule down, I logged into my someone’s email account. After being with a person for 4 years you know everything about them. We both knew each others social security number, I taught her how to forge my signature to pay my bills, she taught me how to do her signature, we shared the same bank account for all for years, all our credit cards were under both our names. The only thing different was our phone bill. I had logged into her account to look for the guy’s email address so I can write him a brief email asking him for a favour.

In my brief email I just basically said to him something like: “You don’t really know me, but “you know who” whom you’ve been seeing for about 7 month has been involved with me for about 5 years. I consider myself to be an honourabale person, and I treat and see others I meet as honourable people until they prove themselves otherwise. And so, from one honourable person to another, I wish to simply make one request: that you find it in yourself to understand how I am hurting right now, and help me salvage my relationship. I’ll stop by your work place when you get off so we can talk things over. You don’t have to write me back.”

I waited a couple days later and parked my car next to his a few minutes before he got off work. When he saw me, he recognized me since my friend and I stopped by to talk to him once. I had brought to show him our picture album to prove to him that she and I were actually together. I asked Marcos if we can talk in his car. He immediately looked remorseful and nodded, opening his car door for me. He walks around the car and seats himself in the driver seat and I show him a few pictures to prove things. He puts his hands on his face and runs his hands over his face and hair, looking up. I really couldn’t say much or talk. I was an emotional mess. I loved her. I wanted to try to save our relationship. I was scared and didn’t know what Marcos would do with me to. In that situation there isn’t much else you can do but cry.

He said: “I’m so sorry. She never said anything about you or being involved in a 5 year relationship, I swear to god. I do consider myself an honourable person. I’m honestly sorry I hurt you and did this. I’ve never been the home wrecker type of guy. Had I known she was involved in a 5 year relationship I wouldn’t have done anything or taken things this far. I’m really sorry, I am. It’s no excuse, but I didn’t know. I was just reacting. She was the one chasing me. That’s no excuse either. I’m just telling you how things happened. I can’t undo what I did, because it’s done. But I want to help you save your relationship if I can. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

I said to him: “Just give me 30 days to try to work things out with her. If in 30 days I can’t make her stay, then I’ll step out of the way and let you and her be together with my full blessings, and not interfere in your lives. If you are just reacting and she is the one pursuing, then none of this is your fault and I don’t hold you accountable in any way in my heart. It’s not your fault. I just don’t understand why she would cause me this pain. Why she didn’t break up with me first, if she wants to be with you. I have no hard feeling or animosity for you Marcos. You’re a genuine and nice person, I can feel it. I’m asking you to please help me and let me have 30 days to try and save my relationship.”

He said back: “You don’t even have to ask. I’ll do better than 30 days. It’s over between me and her. You have my word, on my honour. I won’t see her, call her, return her calls or texts, or any thing after today. I’ll change my number even. I’m not going to have anything to do with her. You don’t have to ask for 30 days. That’s ridiculous. She already belong to you. I just fucked things up for you. I feel really bad. I hope you two can work things out.” So I said to him: “No. You don’t understand. You came into her life for a reason. It’s just the way things are. I can’t stay with her if she doesn’t stay with me. So there’s no point in both of us abandoning her. She’d be very sad, and I can’t bare to know that she’ll be sad. Just stay around, please. I’ll email you in 30 days to tell you how things went down. If I can’t save my relationship then she’s yours. She’s a wonderful person. She’ll love you deeply forever. Thank you for talking with me and cooperating. It means a lot to me Marcos.” I gave him a hug and wished him good night. Then I excused myself and went to my car to drive home. I slept nice that night with her next to me, believing things will be fixed between us soon since now there was no outside interference.

Only a week after she said she wanted to work things out, things finally cracked and exploded all over the place. Me and our roommate L were hanging out in the living room that evening. I was starting to feel happy again actually, since from my perspective, it was a beautiful week with my partner. I really thought things between us were going to be okay. Then she comes home that evening. She slams the front door shut hard and storms herself angrily into our room and slams that door hard shut too. L quickly excuses himself saying to me: “Oh god… I’ll be in my room if you need me.” I squeeze his shoulder and give him a kiss on the cheek to let him know I still love him, if thing go bad, and I walk into our room thinking she had a bad day or something. I was going to maybe try and comfort her.

When I step into the door, genuinely concerned, she yells at me very loudly and intensely, taking me by surprise: “Fuck you Chloe! And fuck Marcos too! I hate the both of you! Fuck you two!” A little confused at how she was behaving I asked her calmly: “What’s wrong?” She goes: “What’s wrong? He changed his fucking number! He doesn’t want to talk to me anymore! He doesn’t want to fucking hang out with me! He doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore! I went to talk to him and find out you two had a fucking talk! A fucking talk?! What the fuck did you say to him? Did you threaten to fucking get your cousins to lynch him? Fuck you Chloe! God fucking dammit, you fucking bitch!” Shocked I said back: “What the fuck’s wrong with you? I thought you said you wanted to work things out just last fucking week? I told you I’ll work things out for us. I went to talk with Marcos and negotiated with him for us, so we can try and save our relationship.”

She goes: “What the fuck!? Negotiate? What am I, fucking furniture? The two of you were negotiating together about my fucking life!? I’m a fucking living person, fucking bitch! Let me fucking live my own fucking life, fuck! When were you going to tell me you fucking know him!?” So I yelled back at her: “Me!? Tell YOU I know him? When the fuck were you going to tell ME you knew him? I had to wait 6 fucking months before you decided to say shit!”

She begins throwing things and crying and being angry at the same time, and laughs while crying, she screams: “I fucking can’t believe this shit. Of course you knew from the beginning. When were you gunna tell me you know I was with him?! Oh that’s right, you don’t tell me shit! You keep secrets! I don’t know shit about you and your fucking life! But you know every fucking thing I say and do cuz you got fucking spies up my fucking ass! I can’t take fucking shits at work without your stupid spies telling you about it! What the fuck is wrong with you! Give me my fucking life back!! I can’t go anywhere, say anything, or do shit without somebody around me telling you! I’m fucking surrounded! I can’t take it anymore, you crazy fucking bitch! Leave me fucking alone please! I want to be free! Stop spying on me!!! I can’t trust anybody in my life anymore because of you! Just stop it!”

I said to her in return: “They’re not spies. They’re my friends too. I can’t help it if I have friends everywhere who fucking care about me enough to tell me shit you don’t! Did you get that?! How can you tell me just last week you want to work things out? And how can you cry when I tried to do you a favour and let you walk free and you begged me to not leave? And how can you want to work things out with me, and in only a week you’re back trying to contact Marcos?! What are you doing to me? I’m not gunna let you do this to me. I love you to death, but I can’t let you kill me inside like this! I’m sorry. I tried to save our relationship. I can’t stop you from going to him. You won’t stop yourself for me. You don’t know how much you’re hurting me! I don’t want to lose you, but there’s nothing I can do to stop you from going to him. I have to leave you. I can’t let you do this to me any longer. We have to breaking up.”

She had started to cry again, this time all the anger and frustration in her seemed to be gone. She just said back as she was sobbing: “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t want to lose you. Just let me be angry for a while please. I’m just angry baby. It’s not you. I’m fucking angry at myself. I don’t know what I’m doing. Just let me be angry. I’m just frustrated. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Don’t leave me please.” I just sat by her really confused about everything. I loved her to death and can’t bare to see her sad, so I was crying myself, and we held each other tightly.

I don’t know what she was thinking in her head during that moment. In my mind I realized something awful. I knew her for a long time. We were friends before we dated and got serious. I loved her to death as a friend. I realized we fucked up that friendship by becoming more than friends. And now things were cracking apart. My heart has been broken into pieces because of this and she has become unhappy in our relationship. We didn’t really love each other any more, like we once did in the early years. But we were both afraid to lose each other? Why, I asked myself during that moment when I was holding her and crying. If we changed into different people over the 5 years, and if we don’t love each other as lover anymore, then why do we both have a fear of losing the other?

After a long moment of calming down and a long moment of just silently holding each other, I understood why we were afraid to lose the other, and when I understood I snapped forced myself out of character. I genuinely love her and genuinely wanted her to be happy. So I found the me I once was when I was her friend, long before we were a couple, and when we were both calm I explained it to her saying: “Listen to me. I’m gunna step out of character and speak to you as a friend I once was to you. You’ve been in a relationship for 5 years with the same person. Both of us have grown into different people with different needs during that time. We don’t love each other the same way anymore. But after 5 years together we’ve grown a deep familiarity with each other. And it’s that familiarity – that feeling of being used to the other person being there – which makes us afraid to lose each other. You can’t stay in a relationship you aren’t happy in. You have to trust your gut, and be tough, and allow us to separate apart, no matter how much it hurts or how afraid we are. It’s just that we’re used to each other. We just have to do it. I’m as afraid as you are. But we just have to do it. So we can each one day be happy.”

So, anyways, we both had stopped crying, but were still holding each other. She said softly in my ear as she was holding me, this time with a feel of clarity in her mind and self honesty: “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t think you’d find out. I thought it was just a one night thing with him. Just one time and I’d forget about it and we’d be happy like always. I just grew feeling for him. I didn’t expect to get those feelings. I didn’t want them inside me. It’s my stupid fault. It’s has nothing to do with you. I don’t want you thinking you can’t please me or something. It was just a stupid mistake I thought I could get away with. But those feelings developed. I really tried hard to fight them for you. I don’t want to lose you, but you’re right. I’m use to you being with me. We have to separate. I’m scared. I’m sorry for everything.”

I nodded and looked at her and said: “It hasn’t sunk in yet. It was a wonderful and beautiful 5 years. The best five years of my life so far, and I’ll always remember it. Thank you for sharing those years with me and the love you gave to me. You were the first true Love of my Life. Nobody and no relationship will ever replace that. I’m happy we lasted this long. It’s a miracle. We fucked up our friendship didn’t we?” She just laughs lightly to herself and puts her head back on my shoulder, taking a deep breath of relief as if she had been freed of something heavy she had been carrying. She ended our last conversation as lovers with the question: “Can we be friends again some day? When things have subsided?” So I gave her one last kiss and said one last time to her: “Of course. I promise. Just give me some time to heal. I’m gunna need some time when it all sinks in. But I’ll be back in your life as a friend, when the time is right. I’m going to change my number for you.”

She looked at me confused and asked what I meant. So I took from out of my little wallet thing; which I keep in my front pocket; several folded pieces of paper on which were written gibberish in a cipher. I said to her: “These are all of my contact and agent lists of the people I know around you who supply me with information about you. And this little piece of paper is the key to read the code. You’ll know each person. I’ll change my number so none of them can contact me again. Don’t be mad at them for anything they may have shared with me. They didn’t know anything. I promise and give you my word that I won’t talk with anyone of them again. I’ll hide away for a year to let what friendship I had between them die out. After today I won’t know anything about you in any way. I’m sorry I did this. You’re free.” She just smiled with gladness and appreciation at me, took the papers, kissed me, and put her head back on my shoulder again.

And we held each other in silence for a long while. Running my fingers thru her soft hair, holding onto it. You can feel the presence of Fate, thick like fog in the room. And you stop fighting destiny, and Let-Go of her, to be carried away from you. It was the autumn season of 2011. I love autumn. It’s a beautiful season. In the atmosphere is a ether of solemnity and melancholy. A charge in the air of quietude and reflection: Of spring’s crops fruited, and harvests collected. The Sickle, lain to rest. Of those ancestors, family, and friends who have fallen like autumn leaves. An aura of remembrance of lovers, husbands, wives, loved ones fallen apart. Of love turned from a passionate youthful green to yellow and orange, ripen with Fated age and fallen to the ground by wyrd’s tide and season’s flow. And we cuddled that cool season’s night one last time, before we fell apart, like leaves of liquid amber.


Two years deep in my relationship with my Someone, I had a dream which agitated inside me, a deep restlessness. I was asleep in my room at my little mom’s house. In the dream I was driving my blue Lexus at night in a shopping plaza of some sort, driving out to the street to go home. There were cars in front of me to make their turns. So as I waited I looked to my right where their was a strip of about 4 shops and I see a Bakery. Inside the Bakery I saw someone in line buying something whom I recognized. I gasped with delight and said to myself as I was looking at her in the bakery: “Oh wow, Vanessa… I haven’t seen her in two years.” I parked my car in a lot in front of the bakery and sat myself on the hood of my car to wait for her to come outside. She turns to look outside the window of the shop and seeing me, her mouth opens wide and she points at me. I was happy with her reaction and waved at her, hoping she’d be happy to see me also and want to be friends again.

She walked outside with a surprised happy opened mouth and said: “Oh my god bitch!” I said back to her: “How have you been? I missed you Vanessa.” She had stepped closer, so I went and gave her a hug, and she embraced me back. It was a tight hold, and she said: “I missed you too bitch! I’m so happy to see you.” I asked her where she was going, and she said she was going to walk home. So I asked her to get in my car and I’d drive her home. I was looking at her in the car for a long time. Happy that I found my friend again. I said to her: “I’m so happy you’re here. I missed you so much.” I couldn’t help myself, and so I cried in the car. I cried so hard in my dream, I woke up in my bed crying hard.

In real life, I had not seen her for two years. We met during our high school years, and when we both graduated we were friends still for a year, before Life happened for the two of us and we drifted our separate ways. I had fallen in love with my someone and was lost in the moment of my relationship with her, so when Vanessa and I drifted apart, I never really thought of her or tried to keep in touch with her. But all of a sudden, out of the blue, I had that night an overwhelming feel of yearning and longing for her deep in my soul which reverberated out across my whole body. I had never felt that feeling before. I sat there on my bed crying bad for some unknown reason. Eventually that intense soulful yearning faded into a feeling of missing Vanessa. In my gut I had the feeling that something was not right with Vanessa. Something was wrong, it was a nagging hunch. I looked at the clock, it was 2:35 in the morning. And I got up to write Vanessa a long letter confessing my every thought and feeling for her, and how badly I wanted to be with her.

I finished my very long letter to her at 3AM. I signed it with the time. Then folded the whole thing and held the letter in my had as I walked around in circles in my room thinking. I laid out before me all of my possible options and tried as best as I can to live out in my mind each of their consequences, to see which path I want to take. I knew I was two years deep in a relationship, that I loved my someone deeply, and that she loved me back deeply as well; but I wanted Vanessa. And so I knew I had for myself a big dilemma. I paced around in circles until 7 in the morning. I figured that it would be foolish of me to make moves in the dark. I did not know Vanessa anymore as a person. Two years at such an early age as we both were can change a person drastically. I also did not know anything about her life. Not if she still liked other girls, or if she has a boyfriend, whatever. I had to collect information, before I can plan anything out and commit to action. So I hid my long letter in my closet, and quickly penned a short paragraph basically saying roughly: “Hey bitch, it’s me Chloe. I know it’s been two years and shit. My bad. I miss you and was thinking of you. I’ll just leave you my number, and the ball in your court. I was just thinking of the good old days before they ended. Bye.”

And so with my short letter done, I got ready, hopped in my car and drove to give the letter to her. Except I didn’t know where she was in the world. I know enough about Fate that if you sense your wyrd, you just have to some how put into motion any act which will bring you somehow closer to your end goal. Even if it’s just writing a simple letter and driving around aimlessly as if you knew where the person lived. You follow the hunches. At the time I lived half a mile from Disneyland. Just before we parted company she had moved to her grandmother’s house in the outskirts of Fullerton, which was only a couple cities down from where I was. So I drove myself to Fullerton. Once in Fullerton I aimlessly drove up and down every single street, to look at the cars in front of every single house. All I knew at the time was that she owns a white Pontiac. I knew this because I actually went with her to buy it. Initially she had asked me to help her buy a car by co-signing it since she has no credit. So I agreed, but at the time, I also had no credit and my little mom had to co-sign for my car.

After driving up and down a section of Fullerton, I had a better idea. Maybe she works during the day like most normal people? So I drove myself to every business in the area to check out their parking lot for a white Pontiac. If I want something, I have the patients of a spider. I can wait years, and I’ll plan out every possible way to try and get what I want. If one method fails, I’ll keep trying for years and years. So driving around aimlessly and looking at cars in business parking lots was nothing and not tedious for me. It felt more like hunting. You’re trying to track down the beast you want to kill, and you have very little information on it, and your hunting ground is the entire jungle. I had to take a break to eat lunch, after 6 hours of driving around aimlessly. I ate at a Wendy’s since their patties taste great, and sat in my car eating my lunch.

This gave me some time to think as I ate. I thought out to myself: ‘You’d think more people drove white Pontiac. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? If there were many white Pontiacs, I might not be able to tell which was hers. If I were a 20 something year old undereducated loud and obnoxious dike, where would I work at? Nothing sophisticated. I was thinking about something funny from our past when I thought about how Vanessa was not super bright.

Long ago, when we were both teenagers, Vanessa was going to go on a trip to New York City with her family. She told me with great excitement, since she had never left southern California before. I had asked her to bring me back a Pebble from New York since I collect Pebbles from different places I visit for keepsake. She said to me: “Yeah, of course. A pebble is like a rock right?” After laughing at her, I said caringly: “Yes Vanessa, a pebble is a rock, but a small cute one.” She goes: “So that’s what the baby’s name means!” I said confused: “Baby, what baby?” She goes: “Pebbles, from that one cartoon, The Flintstones.”

I got the idea of her giving me a rock from the first girlfriend I ever had. I met my first when I was around 16, and she was around 20. At the time I was working at an uncle’s coffee shop. One evening I see a girl in a flamboyant yellow Hindu Sari, complete with the jewelry and everything. It was an odd sight to see in the middle of our city. I said to myself: “Wow, she’s crazy. I hope she doesn’t come in here and talks to me.” She did come inside and talked to me. I learned form talking to her that she’s not Indian, but half Hawaiian and Half Filipina. I told her what I was, and we had the Asian part of us in common. She was a bit taller than me, dark complexion, but not too dark, and she wasn’t skinny, but not chubby. She was also amazingly smart, which caught my interest. She saw the ivory Buddha I wear and asked me to tell her about Buddhism, so I did. After we talked for a couple hours, she reluctantly leaves the store, looking back before she walked out the door, almost walking backwards. I was too scared to ask for her number or anything because at the time I didn’t know how to tell if a girl was gay or not, or at least I wasn’t yet sure. But 20 minutes later this girl called me up on the store phone. She explained herself saying that she felt stupid for not asking me for my number so she called 411 to get the store’s number to call me up and ask me for my number. I gave it to her.

We hung out together a few times during which time we each talked about being having experimented with other girls; or she had girlfriends in the past. So we were fully aware what we each were or what our preferences were. I said I never had a lesbian relationship before and that I was too scared and didn’t know how to start one. So, after a week or so, she invites me over to her apartment for dinner, which she was going to cook for us. At her place she showed me around. She had a collection of books and loved to read. She also had an acoustic guitar and wrote songs. She showed me her poetry and songs, and played her guitar and sang me a few of her songs. I told her I really liked her songs. So she said that she wasn’t sure if I liked her music or not, but since I like it, she had a surprise for me. She had written me a song, inspired by the short time we spent together, and she sang it for me as she played the guitar. So I fell in love with her during that song. She went to go cook for us. As she was cooking I was going thru her stuff. I found a round metal container, like it was a hat box, and asked her what it was. So she said to just open it up and look inside.

Inside were a big collection of pebbles. She came by to place the round box on the coffee table and picking up some pebbles said to me: “I love collecting pebbles. I pick one up for every new place I visit, and one for every significant thing that happens in my life.” She picked on up to show me and said: “See this one: I rode a train with a bum friend of mine. We jumped the train and just rode it wherever it took us. When we hopped down, I picked up a pebble to remind me of that experience.” I asked: “You remember the story behind each pebble?” She said she remembers every pebble and their story. I was holding a chocolate brown pebble in my hand. It was smooth and looked cute like a quail egg. I told her I really like this one cuz it’s like a quail egg. She asked me if I wanted to have it and I said yes. So she took it from my hand and told me to hold out my hand and I’ll give it to you, and she says to me: “In penguin society when the boy penguin likes a girl penguin he gives her a pebble, and if she takes it, it means they’re married.” I thought her idea of collecting pebbles was fascinating, and that the penguin bit was really clever. So I looked into her eyes, understanding, and took the pebble from her, then gave her our first kiss.

During dinner she was telling me that when I talk my English, it sounds like what Hawaiians called “Bamboo Pidgin.” I asked her to explain what that was, so she said it was just a dialect or accent of English the native surfers in Hawaii have, or something like that. She talked like it for me so I can hear what it sounded like. I told her I never realized I had an accent of any kind since I was born and raised in California. We didn’t last long together. But to this day, I still have the pebble she gave to me.

So I had asked Vanessa to bring me back a pebble for this “secret” reason. I wanted her to give me a pebble so I can accept it, to secretly mean that she and I were “married.” She did bring me back something. I wouldn’t call it a pebble. More like an actual rock, since it was the size of your fist. I said to her: “Vanessa, this isn’t a pebble, it’s a rock, but I’ll accept it!” She said: “Sorry, I totally forgot, so on my last day when I remembered, I just ran outside the restaurant we were in and grabbed the closest rock for you. Here you go.” I asked her to tell me what she saw and did in New York. There was this one funny part – if you were there – where she explains: “And then we took a boat to see the lady with the fire in her hand.” I said confused a bit: “What? Lady? Fire?” She tried to “clarify” things by adding: “You know, the blue lady on that one island.” After laughing at her I said: “You mean The Stature of Liberty?” She goes: “Yeah! It was big, and you can ride an elevator to her head!”

So after lunch and after reminiscing about Vanessa, I suddenly remembered that one time I dropped Vanessa off at her cousin’s house in Fullerton! But the time I remembered this was in the day, and I dropped her off in the night. I’m the type of person to tell direction by looking at the scenery, buildings and trees. If I get taken to a place once, I can remember how to drive there myself, but only during the time I was taken there, or I’ll get lost. So I drove home to wait for the evening to come, before I set out to find her cousin’s house. In the evening I drove myself based on what I remember to her cousin’s house. I got the street right, and eventually found the house I had parked in front of when I had dropped off Vanessa that night long ago. I parked my car to take a walk down the street to write the name and address down, so I can find it during the day time.

The next day I drove myself to the same house and knocked on the door. A person I assumed to be her aunt answered the door, so I said: “Hi, I’m an old friend of Vanessa? I lost touch with her a while ago. May I ask if her cousin still live here?” The lady said: “Oh, yes her cousin lives here still. She’s at work right now. I’m Vanessa’s aunt. Did you want her number? I can give it to you.” I said: “No ma’am. Do you know where she works at? I thought I’d surprise her and drop in unexpectedly? I’m Chloe; I don’t know if she brings me up or anything.” The aunt said back: “Oh, Chloe. Yes, I’ve actually heard her say your name a few time when my daughter and her hang out here talking.” Her aunt was cool and told me where exactly Vanessa worked, and gave me Vanessa’s number just in case. I thanked her aunt and left straight for the Albertsons where she worked at.

I parked my car and like a spider, waited patiently, for a white Pontiac to park. I could have called her, and I can just go talk to her in person. But this would cause an awkward feel if she didn’t want to be friends again. So my best option was to give her the freedom and time she needs to think things over, by placing my short letter into her car.

At around 11AM I saw a white Pontiac park under a tree just a ways in front of me, at the edge of the parking lot. I saw her with her red hair walk out and I sunk myself low into my seat to keep from being seen. Seeing her made me remember that dream I had which brought me here. She hadn’t changed in any way. Still was the cute-beautiful Vanessa I remember from two years back. But the way she walked and carried herself told me things inside of her hand changed.

When I knew her that year before we parted company Vanessa had the look in her eye of a person who was ignorant and short sighted with Life. Blasé about how Life worked. Somewhat still “innocent.” After two years, she walked and carried herself with a sense of confidence and professionalism. With an attitude to her walk as if she now had some sense of direction in Life. The look in her eyes as I saw them from afar and how she looked out at the world as she walked to work told me she has had troubling experiences in Life these two past years, which although perhaps painful, may have wisened her up. I was proud of myself. Only a few days earlier I didn’t even know where in the world she was, and it only took me two days to have her in my “crosshair.” I waited for an half an hour, to make sure she was inside and working. It was summer and she left a little crack in her window on the driver side. So I slipped my letter into her car, and drove home, to wait, for the beast to move in closer on her own accord.

The very next evening she texts me, to my utter jubilation. She just briefly texted: “Hey bitch! Missed U. Will call 2maro. Promise.” Then a few second later another one from her saying: “We need to talk. Good nite.” So I just texted her back a simple “Okay. Missed U.” The next day she had called me as she promised. She seemed genuinely happy that we found each other again. We just went right into talking about the “good ole days,” and ended our many hours long conversation with a coffee date proposal to catch up. I gave her my schedule, and asked her to give me her work schedule, when she was off and what hours she worked. So we scheduled a day to meet up.

Armed with her work schedule, I was back in the Albertsons parking lot during a time she was not present for work to walk around the inside of her work place to scope everything out and take mental notes of what type of people she worked with. I was looking for a contact to make friends with, so I can have a person to feed me information about her whereabouts and doabouts and sayabouts. I just can’t make decisions blindly, and although she may tell me information about her life, I need different perspectives.

I have a basic profile for the most likely person to make friends with who would be my contact. The person is in physique my opposite. I’m female, and mostly like a male would be more open to want to be my friend. I’m thin, he is chubby. Typically White, or mixed with Mexican given the environment. Not a “freefloater” meaning a generic secular person not associated with any subculture. He is in his late teens or early 20’s. Not gay, but he will have some sort of discomfort or issue with his sexuality and security, meaning he may be shy with girls in a sexual way, or he shies away from flirtation. So he won’t be the “macho” type of guy. He will most likely cover up his sexual discomfort and insecurities with a facade of intellectualism. He will not be very assertive. So when he talks or wants something such as hang out, most likely he will be the type to end such requests in a question and not in an assertive statement.

So I walk around and smile and say hi to all the employees I walk by for a “stick.” I’m not sure how to explain the feel of a “stick.” It’s like when you step on soft gum in the summer. You feel a soft stick on the bottom of your shoe. I’ll act like I’m shopping or looking for items and walk close each employee, so my “aura” is inside their sphere of comfort, which is when I say hi and smile. Then I slowly walk away. If the target guy or girl says hi back with a smile and eye contact, and adds a comment to keep me in his presence, that’s an initial sign of a stick. I’ll react to the comment in a friendly manner and slowly walk away to see if there is a stick. If the target person continues to try to add more comments or ask me questions to get to know me better, that’s a stick. You need that stick to develop the rapport. The best stick is a person who when seeing you smile and after you say hi doesn’t ask you if he can help you find something. If he says that, he’s only doing his job. It’s the guys or person who, after you say hi, will say things or make comments which has nothing to do with the work place or his job.

After walking around and saying his to many employees, I got a stick. He was a guy who seemed to fit my profile in general. I walked up close to him slowly as if to look at the produce next to him, and looked at him, smiled, and said hi, then stayed for a few seconds. The guy said back: “Hi… hey check this out.” He takes a tomato he was holding, places it on his right shoulder, and makes the tomato roll down his arm and flicks his hand so the tomato lands in a spot on the pile of tomatoes. I was actually impressed with his little trick. So I laughed, clapped and said: “Wow, that’s impressive! How many years of working here before you learned to do that?” He acts depressed, looks down, and said jokingly: “I lost count.” So I laugh at his sense of wit. He wasn’t skinny, but not chubby, looked White, has black partly unkempt hair, wore glasses, but didn’t look like a nerdy or geek type character. He looked like he’d be into the skater subculture, or perhaps more of the video gaming culture.

I was trying to find anything about him I can use to generate a common ground with. I had to use his appearance, so I said: “You look like you could be Russian?” The employee looked surprised, nodded, and said: “Wow, yeah! My father’s Russian. My mother’s Mexican.” I said: “Zdrasvootie ‘Comradski!’ I’m part Mexican too, part Asian. I have Chinese in me.” My new friend laughs and says “Zdrasvootie! That’s awesome! How did you guess?” I told him about my friend James, who is all Russian. My friend James makes home movies with his friends. One of his vampire movies made it to late night cable. He does drugs and is constantly paranoid that the Russian Mafia is after him, because he owes people money. So I’m familiar with the “Russian” look.

I asked him if he knows any Russian, and told him I only know how to say hello. He says that’s all he knows too, but that he was an exchange student once and spent some time in Leningrad. When I heard him use the name “Leningrad” I immediate dropped Communist memes into our conversation to see if it catches. He takes the memes and we end up talking about Communism. To help establish a feel of commonality and familiarity I reminded him that China is a Communist state, and I pretended to be very into Communism, as he was.

His name is Donovan. I gave him my second first name, which is Khmer. This was because you don’t want the person you’re collecting information on to know you have a presence in the store. Not many of my friends know, or bother to want to know my whole entire full name. He was the perfect type, just like my profile. I tried to throw at him a couple subtle flirtatious comments to see how he would react. He laughs nervously and diverts his eyes, than continues to talk intellectually things. He was also not very assertive. He would be the type to do favour for you and do as you ask. After getting to know each other, we traded numbers. I learned he smokes pot, so I said I’d be in town tomorrow and we can hang out when he’s off with his roommates, smoke out and chill. He really liked the idea, and I got my contact. I hung out with him and his friends the next day to solidify the friendship.

On the day I was to meet up with Vanessa for our coffee date, she called me and gave me directions to her place. I was to drive to her place and then call her so she can come get me and show me around her apartment. I told my partner I was in a relationship with that I was going to be out on family business stuff for a few hours. So I drove to her place, nervous inside, and excited.

I called her and she came out to get me. We embraced tightly not saying anything. I felt like squeezing her to death. She said softly in a very unbearable way: “God, I missed you so much.” The way she said it sent chills down my spine. I said back: “I missed you. I’m sorry I’ve been gone Vanessa.” She said: “It’s okay bitch.” So we held each other a while longer. Then we looked at each other to make sure we both looked the same as we did two years back. Happy, she said: “Come on bitch, I have to change out of my work clothes.” She grabs my hand and leads me slowly to her apartment and I explain my business in me coming back into her life. I said to her: “Listen Vanessa. There’s a reason why I’m back out of nowhere like this. A few nights ago I had a strange dream about you. And I woke up feeling like something bad has happened in your life. I had to come find you to see if you were okay. Are you okay?” She stopped walking and stood there with her mouth open surprised and said to me: “You had a dream and knew something bad happened?” She stood there quiet and surprised, then continued saying: “Listen… I’ll explain everything to you over coffee. It’s over. I’m fine now.” I nodded and said okay and pull her so we can start walking again.

It’s a nice apartment. Two floors. One bedroom and half a bathroom, laundry room and garage is down stairs. Upstairs are two bedrooms, a full bathroom, kitchen and living room. As I walk in, Vanessa yells out into the bedroom near the entrance: “Anthony! Come here, look whose here.” Anthony comes out of his room and says to me after he recognizes me: “Chloe! How the hell are you!” Anthony was a mutual friend of ours way back when we were teenagers. Apparently she kept in touch with him and they were roommates. He would be a geek in school. He is chubby, but it works for him. He is an introvert, so he doesn’t say much. He has a few pimples, and he’s a freefloater, meaning he just doesn’t have any subcultural interests of any type. He’s just alive. I tell him I’m doing fine, and Vanessa goes: “Anthony, can you show her around, I need to change.” So Anthony takes me upstairs and literally goes, as we stand by the stairs: “Here’s the living room, that right there is the kitchen. Bathroom over there. Across the bathroom is Vanessa’s room, and that’s the Empty Room.” I looked at him and asked: “Empty Room? What’s the empty room for?” He says: “Ah… maybe Vanessa should tell you. I don’t want to get in trouble for saying things I shouldn’t. She uses it as a smoke room though since she’s too lazy to go outside at night. Anyway, have a seat. I’m gunna go back downstairs and leave you two alone.”

We went to the coffee house which was a real house once, turned into a coffee shop. It had tables in the front yard. We buy our coffee and go to mix the stuff in. She looks at me mix my coffee curious and says: “What are you doing?” I like three table spoons of sugar, lots of milk, dashes of cinnamon and dashes of nutmeg. I said: “Try it. It tastes good. I tried to smoke nutmeg once cuz I had a friend who smokes a lot of it and he saw things.” I hand her the cinnamon and nutmeg as she asked me if I saw anything from smoking the nutmeg. She mixed in the stuff and I said I didn’t smoke enough to see shit. It just gave me a headache.

Outside we sit at a table and immediate begin to catch up. She asked me about my two years, so I explain to her in detail everything that happened in my life during those two years. I didn’t tell her about my two year relationship. Then it was her turn. Basically during the two years what happen was that first Vanessa moved out of her mother’s house because she wasn’t getting along with her stepfather. She moves to her grandparents house in Fullerton. Her gay uncle who is tens older than her lives at this house two and the two of them become close friends and hang out. Vanessa eventually becomes infatuated with her uncle’s best friend “M” who is about 10 years older than her. M and Vanessa talk and they become close. One day Vanessa feels the need to get something off her chest. And so she goes to tell her gay uncle about her feelings she has for M, and wants to know how he feels if she and M got together.

The gay uncle – being the fag he is – gets bitchy and says he doesn’t want her to be romantically involved with his best friend M, because that’s his best friend, and because he knows how she really is. The two of them get into a bitch fight over M. The next day her uncle tells his parents – Vanessa’s grandparents – that she is gay and has promiscuous sex with other girls ten years older than her. Being devout Catholics, Vanessa’s grandparents kick her out of the house onto the streets because she’s gay. With nowhere to go, she moves in with her cousin; who lives in the house I went to find Vanessa. Things go well for a while. But her cousin and the cousin’s mother don’t get alone well. One day the cousin and the mother get into a bitch fight and Vanessa – standing in the hall way – hears her cousin say to the mother: “I hate you! You’re such a fucking bitch! You treat Vanessa better than you treat me. You know how fucked up that is?!” Not wanting to be a cause of problems between the cousin and the mother, Vanessa moves out of that house.

With nowhere to go she ends up staying at a guy friends house named “A”. She thought A was safe. Safe in Lesbian talk means guys you feel will be your friend and won’t try to get into your panties. When she got to this part, Vanessa began to leave out a lot of detail. All she says is that one day when the two of them were drunk, she accidentally got pregnant by him. Not wanting to have his baby and not wanting to be a mother at that young age, she aborts it.

Later they move out with Anthony into their own place. Things were okay, until one evening A is drunk and goes into Vanessa’s room to demand what they were to each other. Vanessa says that she is a Lesbian and that there was nothing between them, it was an accident, and that they are only friends. A punches her and she find herself on the floor of her bedroom with A on top of her choking her. Anthony, hearing the commotion, came upstairs and seeing A choking Vanessa, pulls him off of her. The two boys fight. Anthony is big boned and is bigger than A. A gets his ass kicked and Anthony tells him not to ever come back. Vanessa and Anthony throw his belongings to the street. On the good side, Vanessa has been working at Albertsons for a while. She started as a bagger, but over the years worked her way up to higher ranks in the store. She said that as soon as she was kicked out of her grandparents house something inside of her clicked. She just knew that whatever happens she has to be mature enough to keep a job and work her ass off to climb rank in the store for her own good so she can survive on her own somehow. That brought the two of us up to date.

I felt very bad, and excused myself, telling her that I was very sorry that I wasn’t around to be of any help. I didn’t know. I felt horrible. I asked her if she wanted me to call my cousins up so they can lynch A. But she said that it would only make matters worse, because he hasn’t come around since that incident. So I dropped it. She was sitting there for a while and she asked me: “How did you know something bad happened in my life?” I said: “Cuz we’re connected bitch. I really don’t know how actually. Were you thinking about me any time during those tough times?” She answers: “Yeah, I was. Lots of times. When my grandparents kicked me out, I thought of you. Just wondering how you were doing. And then when I wanted to move out on my own, I thought of you because I originally wanted me you, and A to live together.” I said: “Maybe that’s why I got feelings something was wrong in your life?? It wouldn’t have been good if I was living with you and A. There’s no way I can fight a guy off you. I guess Anthony was Fated to be your other roommate for a reason?” She said: “Yeah, Fate. Do you believe in Fate?”

I tried to figure out the right thing to say to her to answer her question. I said: “No. I honestly don’t want to believe in Fate. But I don’t believe Fate cares how I or anybody believes one way or the other. If it’s real, it’s real. Like how gravity is real, whether we believe in it or not. I can always drop an object and know it will always fall somehow. Like how the force of Love is real. Doesn’t matter if we believe in it or not. We can’t see it, or prove it. But we feel it and are influenced by its force. If Fate is real, we can feel it move, see it’s influence in our lives, and predict future events with it. I remember during the year we last were friends before we separated that you told me you had gone to see a psychic with your mother and you came to tell me that the psychic said that one day soon you’d be pregnant? Remember how we both laughed and thought it was stupid because you’re gay?” Vanessa nodded and said: “I was thinking about that same psychic prediction when I was pregnant. It was fucking crazy.” So I asked her: “Do you believe in Fate?” She nods her head and says: “Yeah, definitely.”

We kept it at coffee and catching up that day. I drove her back to her place to drop her off. We share a cigarette outside by her door. I don’t smoke by myself. But like the old men in my family says: “Walk a crooked path, but not too crooked.” Afterward we gave each other a big and long hug. She kisses me on the cheek and says: “I love you bitch.” So I said: “I love you. It’s good to have you in my life again. I’m sorry I came a little too late for all the action. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I drove home that night with many mixed emotions and thoughts. Things had just become far more complicated than I had expected. I was involved in a two year relationship with someone I love, and I was officially sneaking around her back now. I wanted to be with Vanessa. Vanessa wants to be with some other girl named M. She didn’t want me the way I wanted her. I wished I could do something to make her want me like I want her. To make her forget about whoever M was. All this wishing reminded me of something that I did a long time ago.

During the last months of our school years I began to fear that I might not ever see Vanessa again. Because after high school, you grow up, and your life changes, and you might not see your old friend ever again. During my high school years I spent a big part of it into the goth subculture. And so I hung out sometimes with the weirdo crowd who were into the occult, Wicca, and Satanism, if I wasn’t hanging out with the taggers and Asian gang members. All of my friends at the time knew I was into Satanism. So, fearing I’d never see Vanessa again I decided to try and throw a magic spell on her.

Whenever I hung out with her at her house or at our friends houses, I’d often “help” her remove the loose hair she has on the back of her shirt, and I’d put the strand of hair in my pocket when she wasn’t looking. Or I’d ask to borrow her hair brush, and I’d be helpful and remove her hair from the brush first before I use it, and I’d slip her hair into my pocket.

This one time in her room, I had removed some hair from off her back and slipped it in my pocket, but she caught me doing it and said quickly: “Bitch, what are you doing with my hair?” I said, taken by surprise: “What!? Nothing. I’m gunna save it and throw it away later. Relax.” She said smiling: “No bitch, I don’t trust you. Give me back my hair!” So I laugh at how she was reacting and I said: “It’s just hair Vanessa, what could I possibly want with your hair?” She goes: “You’re gunna fucking do a love spell on me bitch. Give me back my hair!” So I gave her back her three strands of hair to make her feel better and I said: “You have to remember this: I would never throw a love spell on you. If I wanted you to fall in love with me, I’d want it to be real.” She laughs and says: “God, fucking bitch. I swear I’ll kick your ass if I find out you have a big wad of my hair at your house.” I ended that topic by saying: “Shit, I’d take you down in three moves Vanessa.”

But I did have a big wad of her hair, and other things I collected which belonged to her. I collected a key chain charm she threw away. It was one she got at Disneyland which was a little clear glass rectangle with bubbles inside it that made a heart. I also one day saw how the bottom parts of pants she had on were tattered and torn since it drags on the ground. So I told her to cut it cuz it looked ghetto. She does and throws the pieces of her pants in her trash. When she stepped out of her room for a bit, I went to collect it.

At home I made two three inch sized dolls. I stuffed one with her hair and the other with my hair. Inside each I placed a crystal for the doll’s heart. I had little pieces of parchment paper and on them I wrote her name across and my name vertically, so that our two names were together forming a cross pattern.

I placed the two pieces of parchment paper on a plate, plastic over the plate and then I place parts of a cooked chicken and other food I found in the fridge. Then I took the plate with some incense outside at night with a bottle of Hennessy I found in the house. I went across the street to this one empty house lot which had an old abandoned house in it. The house is half gone since it is old and burned down or something. The big lot had many big trees and tall grass and weeds grew everywhere high to your knees and over. I had placed my items between the wall of the old house and a tree which had its branches and leaves form a little canopy, so the area was like a “cave.” I lit three sticks of incense and called the feral spirits and guardian of the land eat and drink and said to them: “I’ve brought you all food and liquor to eat and drink. Please don’t give me any misfortune. I came to ask you all for a small favour. I have written my name and a name of a friend of mine on two pieces of paper beneath the food. I ask that you make it so that no matter what happens in our lives, Vanessa and I will always find each other and come back together.” I poured some of the liquor on the ground when I was done.

In the morning I went to fetch my two pieces of paper. That night I put the paper each into one doll. Inside each doll, I places a magnet. I placed the two dolls face to face, then I took black thread and slowly began to began to slowly wind the thread around the two dolls to bind them together. As I slowly did this, I just say over and over again: “No matter what happens in our lives, Vanessa and I will always find each other and come back together. Like two magnets pulled apart, drawn back together.” Then I placed the bound dolls in a silk pouch, and the pouch, and the pouch inside a little black box. Inside the pouch I place whatever little items I collected from Vanessa, plus paper clips, rubber bands, more magnets, a little bottle of super glue, bubble gum, and anything else that fits which has the theme of sticking things together. I keep the black box in a safe place. I wanted to do this spell – if it even works – because I know that if Time gave me a chance, I can make Vanessa fall in love with me on my own. But I just need it so that she never is far from me, no matter what happens in life. I can patiently wait, like a spider, for how ever long it takes, for Time to just give me that one chance with her.

I only hung out with Vanessa around twice a week. At the time I was living at my little mom’s house and only sleeping over at my partner’s place two or three times a week. So I didn’t need to make up excuses to be gone from my someone. I hung out with Vanessa on the days I slept at home. The more often Vanessa and I hung out, the more obvious she was all over M. M was all she talked about with me.

After hanging out with her for 3 months the sexual tension came back. I really like the feel of that moment when that tension arises because the flirtations generate more intense feelings. They make your heart throb and your blood warm. But nothing really physical or sexual comes of it yet because you’re not a couple. I love to draw out this period of tension as long as I can, just to enjoy it.

There was this one time when me and Vanessa were at her place in the evening. She was making us some pasta for dinner. We were just talking and drinking red wine while she was making the pasta. There was 80’s music in the background since she likes that stuff. So we were sitting next to each other side by side eating our plates of pasta talking and watch a movie. During the good parts of the movie we usually stop talking and watch. So I was watching a good part and eating, and I look at Vanessa and notice she’s looking at me funny, with a half smile, and a look in her eyes like she wanted something. So I said: “What?” She goes: “You eat sexy.” So I said: “Really? Eat like me so I can see.” So we both giggled and she tries to mimic how I eat. We laugh. Then she says in a bedroom voice: “How do I eat?” I said: “You’re hot when you eat.” She goes: “I am? Eat like me. I wanna see how hot I am.” So I mimic how she eats and she giggles loud. Then she goes: “What’s the difference between hot and sexy?”

So I explained to her: “Sexy is like when a girl is wearing an elegant evening dress that hugs her body. Her dark wavy hair is nicely brushed and flows down her bare back. And she has strappy stilettos on and a thin silver necklace. And you can’t take your eyes off of her. Watching her move and talk, and running your eyes up and down her curves makes you want to buy her wine and gently kiss her body softly and slowly inch by inch everywhere on her skin and down her spine. Hot is like when a girl is in tight low cut ripped faded blue jeans. She stands there with three of her fingers in each pocket cuz her pants are on so tight so her whole hand can’t fit. She’s got on a tank top and no bra. And heels and dark red toe nails and rubber band bracelets. And her hair is a little messy. You look at her heels and tank top and the way she chews her gum, and your blood gets hot. And you feel like getting her drunk and tearing off her clothes like a wild animal and smother your face deep in her ass like you don’t even care and clean it out for her.”

Vanessa laughs and her face is red from blushing, and she says in a bedroom voice, like she wants it: “You think I’m hot when I eat?” I said: “Yeah, really hot.” So she goes: “How does it make you feel?” I said: “Dirty. Like I want to sticking my tongue down your throat, sucking up your chewed food into my mouth, and swallow it.” So she giggles, looks slightly disgusted, but turned on, and has a red face from blushing. She takes a bite of pasta and tries to eat it hot and said: “You like that?” So I said: “Keep it up, you’re gunna get it.” So she gives a wicked giggle, like she’s really enjoying herself teasing me and she takes a big bite of pasta, get’s closer and eats with her mouth open facing me. So I said: “Vanessa, I swear to god: I’ma do it for real if you keep teasing.” She gives her wicked giggle again, stuffs her face with pasta and chews her food with her mouth open and sticks it in my face. So I just did it. I kissed her with her mouth full. We gave these muffled giggles; she didn’t push away. It was messy. I had all this slimy chewed pasta in my mouth. Surprisingly, she kissed me back and dumped the rest of her food in my mouth. I broke away to swallow the food and laughed to myself triumphantly. She had this look on her face of part disbelief and part being turned on. I ended it by changing the mood and tone by saying: “Eat your food bitch! It’s getting cold.”

A while later she had asked me one other night as we smoked a cigarette outside her place for my advice. She had told me that all of her friends had told her she and M should not get together. She said she trusted my advice. She had put me into a very difficult spot. I knew I wanted to be with her bad, and I wanted M gone out of the picture. I also was consciously aware that I was in a 2 year relationship. But I also knew that I really did care for Vanessa, and wanted her to be happy. And if she will be happier with M, then, I have no choice but to give her my honest advice as a friend who loves her enough to care about her. I told her that night to not listen to anybody around her. It’s her life and her heart, not theirs. I said that if she doesn’t try M out, she will always live with that regret. And that regret will eat away at her for a long time. The best thing to do is to just go for it. If the two of them are honestly attracted to each other. So she said that she’ll take my advice. But she wants me to met M in person so I can read her character. Vanessa knows I’m good at reading people character and person type. So she scheduled a time when the three of us with a couple other friends of hers can all hang out, so I can meet M. That night before I left me and Vanessa went thru letters M wrote to Vanessa so I can read her handwriting, and I gave Vanessa a general profile of M based on the way she wrote.

A week later I drove Vanessa to LA to hang out with M. We were to meet up at a place I think called the Abbey. The Abbey was part restaurant, part bar, part hang out spot, with an indoor area and an outdoor area. She bought the two of us drinks and we talked while we waited for the other to come. M came early and I was introduced to her. M is very attractive. She looks like she’d fit into the Indies Rock subculture. She is tall, light tan skinned, Mexican, long black hair, bangs. She had slender beautiful fingers. If your from Southeast Asian culture, a girl’s fingers is something you culturally check out which adds to the attractiveness of a girl. This is because of the apsara dancers and just the style of dance we have. Girls with soft delicate and flexible fingers are considered very “attractive.”

The attractiveness of curly flexible fingers is a psychological thing that is a combo of culture and multi-layered suggestive symbolism. If you ever look at the curly delicate fingers of a traditional Thai or Khmer dancer you see the fingers are so flexible that bend and curve like beautiful eyelashes. There is a hidden ancient symbolism in those curled fingers. The Cupid of Brahmanism is named Kama, whose name can be found in the Kama Sutra. The god Kama had 5 arrows, each tipped with a different Flower. If you have ever seen the soft petals of a flower, such as a Rose, you’ll see that they curl if the Rose has just Budded. So the curl of the dancers fingers symbolizes the curls of Kama’s Flowers. And beneath that hidden symbolism is a silent suggestive symbolism which is near esoterically universal. The Budding Rose, or a Flower suggestively symbolized the private parts of a girl, a girl who is in her Budding years of young womanhood. This theme runs along the same vein in the West. In the West why do we curl our eyelashes and make our lips redder than they are? And also why wear sweet smelling perfume? The curl of the eyelashes, red lipstick, and perfume corresponds to the Budding Rose, which subtly hints at something sexual. Even full lips which curls slightly are judged to “sexy.”

M had on her left upper arm a tattoo of a forest. She dresses not so feminine, but the way she carries herself, talks, and moves her face and lips were very feminine and sexy. She was soft spoken, an introvert. Her bangs hid her forehead. In our culture we divide a persons face into three parts to do a face reading. The top part is from the tip of the forehead to the brow. The middle part is from the brow to the bottom of the nose. The bottom part is from the bottom of the nose to the chin. M’s top part was wider than her bottom part. She was a thinker type person, and you can see it in her eyes. Whereas Vanessa’s bottom part is wider than her top part. I noticed almost immediately from seeing M and how she looks with her eyes, carries herself, and her aura, that M and I are the same people, meaning the same character type and persona type. Just that M is an older – more lifefully experienced – version of me. Later on when Vanessa and I left that night for home I told Vanessa and there is a lot about M that I share in common, and Vanessa also saw the many similarities.

If the top part of the face is wider/taller than the bottom part, such a person is the thinker type. One who is governed by thinking and reason. If the bottom part is bigger that the top part such a person is the feeling type of person. One who is governed by emotions and human instinct. The difference is that the thinker type must first Think before she can Feels. And the Feeler type must first Feel before she can Think. If you knew this difference you would be able to figure out how to make the thinker type fall in love with you. You “tickle” and stimulate their Thinking, and their emotions will follow. If she is the Feeler type, you stimulate her emotions. Take her to exciting places. Buy her gifts that make her Feel. Use words that stimulate emotions in writing and talking. Use pictures/analogies that stimulate feelings. And so on.

The difference between the two are important in ancient times in China. If you were emperor, you want to make soldiers out of the Feelers, and generals out of the Thinkers. But never ever promote a feeler type to the power of general. Because you can’t afford to have a general who is governed by emotions calling the shots. Why? Because when the heat picks up in the battlefield, such feeler types are prone to irrational behaviour, panic, extreme emotional instability. Just like under stress the Thinker type will be prone to irrational thinking, delusions, paranoia, over active imagination, and so on. As emperor Thinkers might make better ministers while Feelers may make better diplomats. Thinkers might not make the greatest of artists and Feelers may not be all that great at being writers. Thinkers might make better party hardliners, while Feelers might make better public speakers. Which one is Hitler? If you look at a picture of him you’ll notice the bottom part of his face is wider than his forehead. He made one damn great public speaker, but was a victim of his own irrational passions and ambitions, which are the “fingerprints” of an untempered Feeler.

In my culture the old people say that the gods pairs you up with a person who Tempers you and brings balance to you; and you to the person. So if you are an introverted intellectual, your Khu will have the opposite characteristic and be an extroverted feeler. If you are weak or undisciplined with your finances, your Khu will have the quality of Nature to support and strengthen that weak spot of your nature. It can be small things. For example I was very undisciplined with keeping records of my spending; but my first fated partner had a bizarre natural habit of saving every receipt, pay check stub, and paperwork in shoe boxes for no apparent reason, and being with her for a long time [being influenced by her], I eventually picked up that habit also. My partner had the weak Nature of being undisciplined emotionally, while on the other hand emotionally I am stoic [~equanimity/Upekkha in Buddhism] and I am a “hardliner” thinker. It’s hard to tell if I am happy, sad, or angry because – just like M – I usually show no expression. I think and analyze things before I feel. And so that Nature of mine, helps temper, support, and balance my partner’s undisciplined emotional Nature. So the key idea or the fundamental reason why Fate pairs two people up isn’t because of “True Love,” it is: Temperance. That we each are not born perfect and tempered, and so life pulls two people together who can each Temper the other, so that each person then becomes a fully functioning person in Life.

I also noticed that M has a peculiar habit. She puts her hands in her pockets when talking with people and Vanessa. It’s a very peculiar thing when M hides her hands in her pocket when talking one on one with Vanessa. People who put their hands in their pocket are the type to withhold something from you. They may be honest with you, but they may be selective with what they tell you. They are the type to hide things. The same with people who stand attentively to you speaking and they hold their hands behind their backs. Whereas if a person is listening to you speak and they are holding their hands together in front of, it means such types are people who are honest and “Up Front” with you. I’d be cautious with people who put their hands in their pockets in social settings, or hold their hands behind them, because it suggests such types can be deceptive people.

Me and M hit if off great from the get-go. Only after a few exchanges and me and M were already talking about Buddhism and philosophy. She saw my Buddha necklace, and asked if I was Buddhist, then expressed that she was very interested in learning about it. We had a really nice conversation together, and unfortunately Vanessa didn’t fit into our conversation because she couldn’t follow us. M also smokes. After the others came to join us, M excused herself and said she’d step outside for a cigarette. Vanessa immediately spoke for me and said to M: “Chloe smokes. She’ll keep you company.” So Vanessa hands me a cigarette and I join M.

Outside while we smoked, I am trying to feel around M for information. I bring up the odd story Vanessa told me about how they first met. I said to M as I smoked with her: “So Vanessa was telling me about how she first met you.” M immediate laughs because she knows what I am going to say: “She says she was 9 years old?” When I talk to people, I pick up how they talk and talk like them also, and also try to become the personality type they are also. So I continued and said: “She said she was thinking about you even at that early age. What’s you perspective of everything?” M blushes, and says to me in her soft spoken sexy voice: “It’s not like I’m a child molester. Her uncle was my best friend. He had invited me to a party and she was. I mean she was cute, but I wasn’t thinking anything of her back then. That was it. I didn’t see her again until maybe 7 years later actually. And…” M blushes again and bites her nail in a really sexy way. I figured out her line of thinking and finished her sentence for her, in her own way of talking: “And… BAM… she was ‘grown up’.” I gestured big boobs. Vanessa is top heavy. M surprisingly is comfortable and laughs out loud, blushing and covering her mouth. Surprisingly she hands me a fist to give me “props.”

I picked up an insight from that private conversation. M admits and shows that she was initially physically attracted to Vanessa. That her interest in Vanessa in other words, began physically. Even if she and Vanessa will fall in love and be together, physical lust, or a relationship built on the seed of physical interest and physical attraction must end. Because emotions are bottomless and insatiable, while physical attraction will subside when that physical want has been satisfied. So therefore, if the two of them enters a relationship together, it may last a while, but as soon as M has been physically satiated, she will get bored or will lose interest because the interest itself began physically. This subtly implies something. It implies that if M genuinely loves Vanessa when they are involved, and if M has been satiated physically of Vanessa, M has a dilemma. She is now in a relationship with a person she emotionally loves, but is now physically unsatisfied with Vanessa. What would she do in such a case?

I drove me and Vanessa home that night and she asked me for what I read of M. I told her everything I got, except the private conversation I had with M while we were smoking. I told Vanessa after telling her M’s character type: “There is something not right. Something I don’t know. I can’t see something. Something either you haven’t told me, or you don’t know, or she is withholding it. Because when she is alone with you and talks with you she keeps her hands in her pocket? Is there something M feels uncomfortable speaking to you about which she does not give you much details on? Just start naming me stuff off the top of your head.”

She thinks a while and says: “Her ex-boyfriend. She told me she was in a relationship with a guy, and that they broke up, but they were still friends.” I took note of that and said: “Okay… So you’re saying M was into guys before you and her started talking?” Vanessa said: “Yeah. They were together for a long time. Like 3 years maybe or something.” I took note of that and said: “Okay… how many girlfriends has she had before you?” Vanessa shakes her head as she thought and said: “She’s experimented with other girls and goes to lesbian clubs, but I don’t think I remember her saying she ever had a real girlfriend relationship.” I took note and said: “Okay… how does she know her ex-boyfriend? How do they hang out? I mean, in what way do they know each other and interact now. Tell me what’s up with them two.” Vanessa says: “They’re in a band together. He’s the drummer, and she plays the bass guitar for the band.”

So I collected all that information and said to her: “So, tell me if I get this right: M is in a band. She was with the guy drummer for 3 years. She breaks up with him, but is still in a band with him, and is still his friend. She has never had a real lesbian relationship. She is 34 years old and is experimenting with her sexuality? Is that right?” She chuckles a bit to herself, and reluctantly says: “Yeah… what’s that mean?” I know she sees the red flags, but I said to her: “God Nessa… it means to just be careful, okay? Don’t listen to nobody. Not even me. Just listen to your own gut feelings. You can’t trust anybody. If your gut feeling says to start something with her, try her out, then go with it. Just be careful and be smart. I can’t say anything more because it’s all just speculating and guessing. It’s stupid to base choices we make in matters of life and love on speculations and guesses. M is a really cool person. She’s very beautiful, sexy, and very intelligent. I liked her a lot. I think, you need her. She is naturally lady like in demeanor, and your slightly barbaric. You’ll learn from her. She told me she really, really likes you a lot. You both had an interest in each other years back. Sometimes Fate bring two people together for a reason. I’d just let go in this case, and go with the flow of Fate. It brought you two together after all these years. She was willing to give up her best friendship with your uncle to be with you. That takes a lot of feelings Vanessa.”

As the months roll by I hang out with Vanessa regularly at least twice a week. She usually calls me at night a day before to call me to come over the next day. Usually when we hang out we just go to her place and hang out in the empty room. We share a bottle of wine and smoke. And talk a lot, and then spend hour or two reading tarot cards. The strange thing is when we aren’t playing with the tarot cards, all she does is constantly talk about M. But when she reads the tarot cards, M vanishes and all Vanessa asks are questions about her “soul mate.” She usually asks the same soul mate question over and over again in as many different ways as the English language permits. It’s usually basically: ”Will I meet my soul mate?” Then she makes me ask a dozen questions about my soul mate. And neither of us knows how to read tarot cards either. All we do is read the little booklet the cards come with which has the brief interpretations. We’ll read the interpretations for each card, and the usual question we always ask each other is: “What do you think that means?”

Seeing how she seems deeply interested in soul mates, one night we talked about the subject. She asked me if I believed in soul mates. So I answered her honestly: “Yes I do. I’m a hopeless romantic at heart Vanessa. I’m not the type of person to really want to have random girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever. I really do want to find that ‘special someone’ and just be with that one person for the rest of my life. You?”

She said she was exactly the same way as me. She just wants to find her one soul mate and be with that person forever. When I heard that, I decided to uncover for her something I had kept from her for many years. Something I deceptively hid from her. A long time ago, when she and I were still in high school I wanted to read her palm to see how many Khu lines she had. Plus at the time I wanted to just touch her. So I told her I knew how to read palms a little and to give me her hand. She has always liked that kind of stuff. I get behind her and press my body up to hers just to feel her close and look at her right hand. I tried to read her lines for her as best as I could. Then I made her hand a fist to look for her khu lines. Like me, Vanessa had only two very deep khu lines. But I lied to her and just said they meant how many kids she would have in life.

I told her that night what they actually meant. She said after she found out, looking at her two khu lines: “I have two soul mates?! Have I met them yet?” I said: “Not really soul mates. They are two people Fate has paired you up with. You are destined to be with two people at different times in your life for a very long time. Have you ever had a long term relationship before… like over 2 years?” She laughs at herself, her own inexperience, and said: “Nope. I was with one girl for 7 month. That’s my longest so far.” I said: “Then you haven’t met either of them yet.” She started to think hard, and after a while she said: “Let’s say M is one of these people I’m destined to be with for a long time, and she’s the first line. What does that mean?” I was happy. She caught the undeveloped hint I dropped and developed it on her own. So I said to her: “It means that even though you both may love each other deeply, that it is destined to end. It has to end before you are with your next one.

She looked back at her khu lines contemplating, then asked me who the second line was. I told her I don’t know. But I used the question she asked to graft another set of undeveloped hints for her to unravel. I sharply change the subject back to the psychic prediction she got about her becoming pregnant, and it came to pass. When we were secure on that subject, fresh off of her question of who the second line was, I said I had two psychic readings to share with her also about my soul mate. She attentively listened with interest.

One year before I met Vanessa I got two different psychic readings at different times. The first one was from a Filipina lady I knew named Joyce, but her friends called her Joey. I knew her because I had me an after school job at a Wiccan/Occult book store. Every weekend they had psychic readers come. Usually I was the one who took the money from their customers and gave the customers their “tickets” which was their receipt, with the number 30 or 40 on it written by me which just told the reader how long they paid for. The psychic and store owner split the profit 50-50. I clicked with Joey from the very beginning since we were both Asian. Over the months I became very close to her, and she ended up knowing all my private secrets, since we talked a lot when we had lunch together. Joey usually has the longest waiting list because according to all of her clients she was incredibly accurate and gave very detailed readings, as opposed the very vague ones you would usually get.

I don’t really believe in psychics. But I heard hundreds of Joey’s clients all keep saying she is very detailed and accurate, and so I became curious. So one day I paid for a 30 minute reading. At the time I was becoming pensive about my life after high school. I was unsure what the years ahead will be like. So I just got a reading from Joey as a way to make me feel better and more sure of things. I told Joey at the reading table in the reading room that I am just concerned about three things really: 1) My soul mate, 2) what my life be like when I am in my early 20’s, and 3) what will I be as far as career and my life after 40. Joey knows my preferences, and so I began my reading by telling her the type of person I am. I just want to meet that someone I’m destined to meet and spend the rest of my life with them. I don’t care what gender or race, or how rich or poor. I asked her if I even had such a one person or if I’m just crazy and should just be with anybody.

Joey answers each question with a different deck of tarot cards and a different lay out pattern. Each time you have to shuffle the new deck for her. She lays my cards out for my first question. And says: “Yes. You have such a person. When the time is right, you will be with one person, and only one person for the rest of your life. You will grow old with this person.” So I asked her: “Is there any way you can tell me what this person looks like and when I will meet them?”

So I shuffle a new deck and she lays out a new set of cards, and then says, after a long period of looking at the cards: “It is a girl. She has dark red shoulder length hair, or auburn hair. Thin eyebrows. But her eyebrows are black, so I think she dyes her hair. Her nose is slightly tilted up. Light complexion, lighter than me, and lighter than you. Very beautiful face. There is no blemish on her face. Big brown eyes… long eyelashes. Full lips… her top lip and her bottom lip are of equal size. When she smiles, she has dimples. She has a piercing on her lower lip. Three ear piercings… one on one ear, and two on the other. She has a scar on the bottom side of her left wrist. She bite she her nails, and often runs her fingers to remove hair from her eyes and face. You will know you have met her when you see a sign. The sign is a big tsunami will hit Asia and kill many people. When you see this sign you will know you have met her. She will know deep down inside who you are, but it will take time before she is ready with her life to start anything with you. Give her time, no matter what may seem to be happening. She is destined to be yours and you will spend the rest of your life together. But you two will only be a couple when the time is right for you two to come together.”

Satisfied, I asked my second question. I shuffle a new deck and she lays out a new pattern and looks at the cards and feels things for a while. Then says: “I don’t see you with many worries in your 20’s. Not much bills to pay. You have your family to help support you. You will work part time jobs for spending money. Nothing serious or special. You will have many free time during this moment in your life. God has given you this free time and you know this to be true. You will not waste this free time. I see you writing. I don’t know what you are writing, but you are writing. Day after day. Week after week. Year after year. I don’t know what it is about. Perhaps a book? But I don’t see books being published being sold in bookstores. Do not stop writing no matter what. During this moment of your life, God has given you this free time to gain a skill and knowledge which you will use later in life to build a career out of. Your future career will grow from what you learn from this writing and moment in time. This moment in time is a gift from God. You will know it is so when you are older. You have no financial problems during this time. Relax and enjoy this time. Because in your 30’s you will be a mother and will have no free time. You will have two children with your soul mate. You will have one and she will have one. I don’t know how you each will get pregnant, but I see each of you giving birth to one child each. You will have a girl and she a boy. These two children are all you will have. They were your own two children in your past life. In your past life, your soul mate was the husband who was killed, and left you and your children behind. This life is a gift from God. You have no other purpose in this life but to be with the one you lost and have a family you did not have in your past life.”

So I asked my last question, shuffled deck and she laid out a new pattern, feels a while then says: “When your children are in their early teens you will have your career. You will be around age 40. I see you in airplanes traveling. Not on vacation, but on business. You travel on planes from country to country and state to state. I see you talking a lot before groups of people and audiences. I don’t know what you do, or what your career is, or what you are teaching. But you are teaching something to groups of people in audiences, and you are standing on a stage just talking. This career will grow out of the skills you have learned and the wisdom you have gains from your writings and you experiences in life. That is why I urge you to never stop writing, no matter what happens. All people are born to have problems in life, and you will have your share of hurt and pain, like everyone else. But don’t stop writing, and follow your inner voice. You feel that voice and know it never fails you. Don’t desire to live a life like everyone else lives theirs or how they tell you to live. Just follow your inner voice. God has already made a path for you to walk. That inner voice will guide you thru that path. You have your own destiny to fulfill, and your own purpose in life. You are not destined to be a millionaire, but I see you will be living a comfortable life with no financial worries. I see you having free time to be with your family, your children. Free time to travel the world. I see you and your sold mate taking your children on vacations.”

I asked tangent questions to clarify those three main questions, and she went into more details, but that was the gist of her reading. The second reading was brief and disappointing, but more revealing regarding a certain matter. I was walk home from school one day. I pass by a plaza where there is always a shop with a gypsy in it who reads cards and palms. The shop is in a small plaza with a good hamburger joint on it. I had gone to eat lunch there after school once and I stared out to the gypsy’s shop wondering if I should just get a reading. So after lunch I just went to get one since the reading was only $10. I went to sit at the table which was empty. The gypsy lady was out back for a while. But she eventually comes into the front room and just says to me: “Yes?” So I showed her my money and told her I wanted a reading. Only when she saw the money did she come to sit at the table with me. I wanted to say something rude about her in my head, but was too scared her super gypsy psychic hearing might hear what I said in my head, so I didn’t make any comments. She says: What do you want to know?”

So I said: “Um… just tell me about my soul mate. When will I meet this person?” My rude gypsy reader looks at me as if she was lazy and says to me; she referred to herself as “Mama;” so she goes: “You listen to Mama. Mama will give you tell you something. You’re too young to be asking about love and soul mates. Do what mama says: Stay in school. Stay away from boys. Get good grades. Graduate. Either go to college or get a good job. Buy a nice car. Work on yourself [she taps her head]. That’s what you should be concerned about now in life. After you have your life in order, then ask about love and soul mates. Come back to Mama in 10 years, okay?” She puts my $10 in her pocket and gets up to leave. So I said, feeling a little gypped: “But that wasn’t even a psychic reading? That was just granny advice? May I have my money back? At least tell me when I’ll meet my soul mate. Just one question at least? Or please give me my money back.” So she sits back down and asked me to give her my hands. I gave her my palms to read, and see is quiet for a moment and says: “You will meet your soul mate. But both of you are too young and not ready. That’s why Mama says for you to never mind about it and work on other things. You both must experience your own lives. Both must have your heart broken. You listen to Mama. Mama will tell you something. Only when you have your heart broken will you be able to appreciate the love another gives to you. You will both be too young. You will meet and something will happen. You both will not see each other for a long time. Both your hearts will be broken. Then you will meet again. That’s it. Finished. Go. Mama is busy.”

After I finished sharing my reading with Vanessa, her brain started to click and work. She sat there for a while and then said: “But that description sounds like me? I even dye my hair dark red and I have a burn scar on my wrist?” I added: “And I met you in 2004. That was the year that tsunami hit Indonesia and killed 100,000 people. I have not ever met anyone else that fits that description during any other tsunami?” She looked confused or something, and said after thinking a while: “But, what’s that means?”

I said back to her: “I don’t know what it means Vanessa. They’re just psychic reading I had. I wouldn’t trust them that much. I was just sharing. You and M… you’re in love with her and she really wants you. That’s all we both know. I want you to be happy. I care about you. You can’t stop talking about M. I honestly think you two make a good couple and you should seriously be with each other. You’ll be happy. I’ll always be around in the background, if you ever need me. We’re connected bitch, right? I’ll know when you need me, even if I’m gone for a long time. Just remember that no matter what happens or how much time has pasted, we’ll always find each other and come back together like we did. I’ll always love you like I do right now, like I did when we first met, no matter how much time passes between us. It’s you that may forget me.” She said she feels the same way and that I’ll always have a place in her life, that she will never forget me. So with that we changed the subject.

There was one evening when Vanessa and me were hanging out and she asked me for something which told a telling sign. That evening Vanessa had asked me if I can teach her how to do a love spell of some type. She wanted to throw one on M. I told her that I can teach her how to do a simple one that might work, but that if it did work, it wouldn’t be real love; and that it may only be temporary. She asked: “What’s temporary mean?” I said: “Temporary means only for a short time and it will fade away.” Surprisingly Vanessa shrugged her shoulders and said nonchalantly: “So. I’ve wanted her for like, over 9 years. I just want her.” I thought about the implications: that she didn’t seem to care about the love. So I taught her how to do one which was simple for her to follow. I told her to take a piece of paper and write out her whole name horizontally, and then M’s whole name vertically so that their two names forms a cross. On a Friday she must buy a soda and some candy. She is to bring the paper with their names on it, the soda, and candy to a place where lots of people walk by, such as the front of a supermarket. She has to place the paper on the ground, the candy on top of the paper. Then drink half of the soda, and place the half empty bottle on top of the paper. Then she is to call the spirits of the area and ask them to help her and M come together. M’s name has to be said in full. And she leave the stuff there for the guardian spirits. So the following Friday, she did do it.

Vanessa and I hung out together one on one like this many night, for around 6-7 month without my partner ever knowing. There were reason why I “got away” with sneaking around my someone back like this. The first reason is that me and Vanessa only hung out at night once or twice a week. I sleep most of the time at my little mom’s house, so my partner use to me not being with her every night. Second reason is that I have a culture of habit to always keep my phone off during the day, and at a set time in the evening I listen to my voice mail and call people back, to check my text messages. I call this time I check my phone and text and call people back my “office hours.” So my partner also is used to – conditioned/trained – since the start of our relationship to give me a hour in the evening for my office hour. All my family and friends know that I don’t answer the phone for anybody, even if its an emergency. I refuse to do it. I check the god damn phone at a set time, and I’ll call you back if I think it’s important at a set time.

Another reason is that I hide all my pictures in my phone or on my computer. The only pictures I have on my phone are pictures of my partner, and nature pictures I take like trees , ducks, lakes, flowers. Everything else, family photos, my pix, Everything, I pack into archives, encrypt it, and put them into True Crypt files. I do this because I don’t want anybody using any picture as a means to ask a question about my private life. I’m just the type of person who is private and will tell people things on a need to know basis. I don’t want anybody seeing a picture of a cousin of mine and asking me: “Hey, whose that?” Because it pisses me off. If I wanted your ass to know shit about that person, I’d bring them up. Don’t be asking shit about anything with me.

My computers and laptops are all empty. I just use that as “docking stations” for my two Flashdrives. I keep every computer program I have, every software, every picture, my diary, all that goes into one of my two Flashdrives. These flashdrives are on a strap together. In the day time that strap is always in my pocket, and at night I wear the strap to bed around my neck. It never leaves my person. Every folder and file in my flashdrive is password locked. I have a habit of keeping everything about me – even trivial shit – a private secret from everybody, family or friends. Most of my stuff goes into a 128 gig flashdrive. My second flashdrive is 64 gigs and it only has two things in it. I have in it a VirtualBox, and then a Virtual Machine of a 40 gig BackTrack 5 OS. BackTrack 5 is cool. It’s a Linux distro based on Ubuntu, but it comes with 300 hacker tools. Youtube has a lot of tutorials on it if you want to see what it looks like. I like it. I stash my text files, notes, and many of my photos in folders inside my BackTrack, which is password protected.

Even though I have a culture of habit to hide everything, I slip sometimes, out of laziness. I had taken a picture of Vanessa with my phone one day because I liked the way she looked that day. I usually transfer these pictures into my flashdrive, which is a cumbersome process because you have to dock your flashdrive, connect your phone to a cable, and move everything. If I don’t have a cable with me I usually email pix on my cell phone to myself, then I delete the pix in the cell. But on a certain day, after 7 months of sneaking around my partner’s back with Vanessa, I slipped. I was at her apartment staying over. She had taken a shower and left me in our room. So I slip into the kitchen when her roommate L called me out to help him out in the kitchen. I totally forgot I had one picture of Vanessa in my phone, and I carelessly left my phone on her bed since I was checking my voice mail. I left the phone on the bed because I thought I wasn’t going to take long with L. But he’s a fun gay guy, so I helped him cook us dinner and I was having fun with him in the kitchen so I forgot about my phone.

The three of us ate dinner, and then we hung out together. Then we all left to our rooms. Which was when I remembered I left the phone on the bed. I suddenly had the thought that K could have looked thru it when she got out of the shower. But she didn’t say anything during dinner. So I just quietly picked up my phone, turned it off, and placed it by the lamp, while she came to sit on the edge of the bed with a look like she wanted to talk. She just said: “Who’s Vanessa? I saw her name in your phone. Is she the girl in that picture?” I said: “Yes. You looked through my phone?” She goes: “You look through my phone all the time and I don’t care. I just thought I could do the same.” So I said: “That’s true. I don’t mind you looking through my phone.” She says: “So, who is she? I thought I knew all of your friends? How come I’ve never heard of her before?”

At this point I knew I was going to be in trouble. I just quickly said: “I’ve known her for a while… on and off. I lost touch with her for two years or so, and just got back in touch with her.” She goes: “Oh. When?” Since I knew I was going to be in trouble, I just decided to be honest. I said: “About 7 months ago.” She goes: “Seven fucking months? And you were never going to tell me?” At this point I was already guilty and busted. So I immediately go into “Public Relations Crisis Management Mode.”

In the business world, with large corporations that spend millions and millions on marketing and advertising, the company’s Public Image is extremely important. Something disastrous that happens to a company which damages that Public Image in the public’s eye is called a “PR Crisis.” And example would be say at a theme park like Magic Mountain, somebody falls off the Batman ride and dies. This gets put on the news. The people at the theme park start texting each other about this death. Next thing you know everybody know about this. That’s a PR Crisis. When this happens there are special firms you go to that specialize in managing such PR Crises where they gradually help your corporation repair your Public Image. Because if you don’t fix the crisis you may in time lose your market.

When you are handling a PR Crisis there are three key points you have to follow. The first is: Do not get defensive! The second is: Let your public/market express their thoughts and feelings, and take note of their concerns and issues! The last one is: Fix your mistake without delay, and take care of each key concern and issue the market has. We all make mistakes. It’s human. It’s how we each handle and fix our wrongs and mistakes that shows competency and Organic Intelligence. There is a difference between “Theoretical Intelligence” and “Organic Intelligence;” just like there is a difference between Theoretical Physics and Applied Physics.

Theoretical Intelligence is the smartness you acquire from school, reading books, studying philosophy and religion, watching the Discovery Channel, and so on. Organic Intelligence is the smartness you acquire from Life, Experience, Trials, Errors, Failures, and Mistakes made. The difference is that if a dude has read a book and has learned that the universe is circa 8-10 billions years old: what practical thing can the dude do with that intelligence in Life; besides sound smart to dumb people? The difference is that if I get on a skateboard for the first few times and I fall, I gradually learn how not to stand the wrong way and I organically learn from trial, failure, and experience how to ride a skateboard. Organic vegetables are stuff that has no man made chemicals added to it. No pesticides, no growth hormones. Just good ole dirt, water, and sunlight. Organic Intelligence is the same way. Just good ole fashion Life, Experience, Trial, and Failures.

Before you know how to ride a bike, you must fall a few times. And so that line of reasoning is applicable in Business and Romance as well. For example, I would never trust a businessman who has never failed or made mistakes in business. Let’s say I were looking for a business partner and a potential business partner came to me. This guy has had 4 years of business college and is very intelligent with his theoretical knowledge on business. So as a wise businesswoman I says to him: “That’s all great. Do me a favour: line me up all of your failures and mistakes you’ve had thus far in the business world, and explain to me what you’ve learned from them.” If the guy can’t produce any failures or mistakes, it suggests to me that this guy has no practical know-how in the real world about business. So therefore, he may make a bad partner, because he may have no idea how to transform his Theoretical knowledge into Applicable action to actualize End Results.

All Knowledge but no Wisdom. Look up the word Wisdom. Wisdom is what you get when after you have Applied Knowledge in the real world. That what you know has been applied in the Realm of Experience, and you take the wisdom which you have gained to produce End Results. And so the same goes with Romance. If a person presents itself to be perfect to me, and this person has not ever failed or made a mistake in a relationship or with a lover, it implies to me that such person has not had any real meaningful relationships at all. If you’re a guy and you like being single and you sleep around, you have thus never failed or made mistakes in a relationship. So if I were looking for a good – experiences – boyfriend, and I asked you to line me up your past failures and mistakes regarding romance, and relationships, and you can’t show me shit, then I know you have no practical experience in the matter. Cuz how do you know how to ride a skateboard real good, without having a list of failures and mistakes to show for it? How do you know how to actualize a functioning and fulfilling relationship, if you have not ever failed, made errors, and mistakes?

And you take that same line of reasoning and check out this online occult world. Look for all of these self proclaimed leaders of Satanic organizations, or self proclaimed authorities of “Satanism,” or any memeplex. You pay attention to them and you see they have a lot of ideas, a lot of opinions, and many are certainly “intelligent” with a large knowledge base. But ask these same leaders and/or authorities of the Satanic Industry to list their failures and mistakes for you to see regarding their Satanism, or whatever. Never mind the end results, if they even have any. We just want to see the failures they have collected. They don’t have any. They shun failure. Failure and mistakes are negative things to them to be avoided. They make fun of you if you have failed, cuz every one of them wants to be a “winner.” I’ve only been doing this ONA thing for a short while, but I can point out for you my failures, errors, and mistakes: my Pathei-Mathos.

You can never Fail by reading a book and memorizing what knowledge the book had. And you don’t fail repeating what you got from such books to your fellow Mundanes. Even in Martial Arts this is true. You can’t learn martial arts and you can’t get to the next belt color without failure and mistakes; unless you’re saying that you are perfect and better than your teacher already. If you have the Organic Intelligence [experience] of using basic PR Crisis management principles with customers at family own business like I have, then that organic nature of what I have learned from trial and error can be applied in my relationships to produce some sort of results for me.

So with the theme park scenario, if a person fell of a ride and died, and a PR crisis ensues in public, the first thing you do is to not get defensive and to admit that something went wrong or that you made a mistake. So it would not be a good idea to go on the news as the spokes person for the theme park and say: “Well, now, lets keep things in perspective here. Only one dude died. The rest are still alive. You guys are making boulders out of pebbles.” Second is you let the people voice their concerns and issues. Third is you immediate fix the problems and take care of the key concerns. So if the people are concerned with the safety of the ride, even if the ride is safe and it was a freak accident, you have to fix the ride and let the public see and know you care about their concerns to fix it.

So in relationship terms, I fucked up and got caught sneaking around behind my partner’s back. This made her See me in a different way. She is my “market” to whom I sell myself, and her perception of me has changed into something negative/ugly. In this case, I now have a Public Relations Crisis on my hands, because my “public image” in her eyes has become fucked up. If I don’t fix my PR Crisis, I will lose my market, meaning here that I will lose her.

So the first thing I did was try to be honest and not be defensive. She knows I kept my friendship with Vanessa for 7 months behind her back, and she asked me if I was ever going to tell her. So I honestly said back: “I was afraid you’d misunderstand, so I kept it from you. I’m sorry.” She didn’t take that well and went off on me for a while. When you are doing this first step of managing your PR Crisis, you never what to use the word “BUT.” For example, it would not be beneficial for me to say to her: “Yes I did sneak around But nothing happened.” Because the word “BUT” in that heated context makes the other person feel as if there is “fine print” somewhere. “I snuck around But…” also makes you seem defensive and like you are dodging and evading her.

After she vented herself I went into step two. I said to her: “Baby, I’m sorry, it’s my own fault. I know I fucked up big time. I know I hurt you. Can you tell me what you’re thinking and how your feeling right now. Do you think I’m sleeping with her? Do you think I love her? Did I make you feel insecure? Do you no longer trust me anymore? How do you feel, what are you thinking? Tell me.” She goes off on me again, but she expresses what she is thinking and how she feels. I direct the conversation so that she tells me what exactly is concerning her. And I take mental note of all the key points she brings up. Her main issue was that she thinks I’m sleeping with Vanessa behind her back. Her second issue she expressed was that she feels as if she can’t trust me anymore. Her third issue she brings up is that she feels hurt. So with those three key issues I go to step three and deal with each issue one at a time, so each concern of hers that is troubling her is fixed.

So with step three in mind I said to her: “I made a mistake. I love you. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt or harm you. I’ll fix this up okay? I’m going to call Vanessa right now and have her schedule a double date so everyone knows what’s going on. Me and you with her and her girlfriend.” So in front of her I called Vanessa, briefly told her the situation I was in and asked her to do me a favour and set up a double date so the four of us can hang out.

In step three it would work against me if I were to say: “I made a mistake, tell me what you want me to do to make things better.” This makes it seem as if you are double stupid or are a child. Like you are stupid first for making a mistake, and stupid again because you have to ask her how to fix your own mistakes. It also doesn’t express a tone or attitude of confidence, because you are Asking her; which in turn makes you look and feel incompetent. It would also work against me if I said this: “Nothing happened, I’ll prove it to you.” When you use the word “prove” in this heated context, what you are emotionally saying to the other person is: “I am Right and you are Wrong, and I will PROVE to you that I am Right and you are Wrong.” So not only did you fuck up, but now you’ve just told her she is wrong, crazy, and stupid, and that you are right. Even if she is incorrect in speculating that I must have slept with Vanessa, I made the mistake, thus, I am the one in the Wrong, not her.

The reasoning why I scheduled a double date was that since she told me, I know that her main issue is that she thinks I slept with Vanessa. So I lay out all my possible options to remedy that concern and try to execute each option one at a time until that concern is destroyed. I figured that if my partner sees Vanessa with M, that my partner will know that I am not sleeping with her, since Vanessa has her interests in M. This is where the idea that you should never act or make a move blindly is applicable. You mess things up for your own self, if you don’t know what is in her mind that is bugging her or troubling her. You need to get her to lay out all of her thoughts, feelings, issues, and concerns for you to see. This way you can shoot them down one by one. So with all of her concerns laid our for me, I immediately – as soon as possible – begin to destroy each of her concerns and issues. Those issues are the Cause of potential Symptoms. If you cut out the Cause, you won’t get the symptoms.

On the first double date we went on with Vanessa and M, my Someone got to see what was up with everything. For most of the time, Vanessa and M were making out everywhere. There was a time when they were making out at the table we were at in a restaurant, and I turned to my Someone and gave her the “awe isn’t that precious” look since they were newly in love. My Someone rolled her eyes and had the look of being annoyed. I was happy. Happy because my partner now sees that there is no Apparent way that there was anything between me and Vanessa. The fact is, there was nothing “between” Vanessa and me, but there was something “inside” me for her. On the way home my partner said to me: “My god, they seriously need to get a room or something.” So I said: “They just fell in love babe. We were like that too in the very beginning of our relationship.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while, as if she’s thinking. Then she goes: “I just can’t see why you couldn’t have just told me you were friends with her. It makes me feel like I’m not a part of your life when you don’t even care to tell me something as simple as that.” I said: “I honestly didn’t realize not telling you would make you feel that way. I didn’t intend to make you feel that way. You’re more than a part of my life: you are my life. It sounds stupid, but when you love another person deeply, you live for them. I love you more than anything. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I care too much about you. I’m sorry I was stupid and kept it from you. I was afraid you’d misunderstand. If you have any issues or concerns inside of you about me and Vanessa being friends and hanging out together, please just tell me. I’ll stop being her friend.” She squeezes my hand and says: “No… I’m not like that baby. She’s your friend. Just please tell me next time and don’t keep it from me, okay, please?” I kissed her shoulder since she was driving, and said: “I promise, I will.”

And with that, I fixed a large part of my PR Crisis. I stopped the worst from happening, my Someone still loved me, and now, she is letting me be friends with Vanessa. So I was able to keep doing what I was doing with Vanessa out in the open. Except I was no longer able to do anything with Vanessa because now she and M had fallen in love.

One day, I took Vanessa out to the Valley to visit Wat Thai, which is a very large Thai Buddhist Temple I use to go to nearly every week with my family when I was small. Inside is a world renowned Green Statue of the Buddha. I had told Vanessa why the statue was famous and well known. This statue is known to answer your requests in exchange for chicken eggs. You basically pray to this Emerald Buddha and ask for something and tell the Emerald Buddha that in return you will bring him eggs. You say the amount of cartons of eggs you feel your wish is worth. Usually it’s the 24 carton eggs. And you bring the green Buddha your cartons after he has granted you your wish. Interestingly if you go to this temple on days the monks have not cleared the cartons of eggs, you will see hundreds of cartons in front of the Emerald Buddha. I asked Vanessa if she wanted to go and ask the Emerald Buddha for a wish, and she excitedly said she would. So I took her.

Over at Wat Thai we walked in after we took our shoes off and I asked Vanessa to just watch first how everybody pays their respects to the green Buddha. We prostrate before the statue in the traditional Southeast Asian Theravada way in our temples. You lite up three sticks of incense, sit with your legs folded mermaid style to one side, hold the incense in your hands claps with finger tips past your brow, then lower your clasped hands to the ground, followed by your head touching your hands. This is done three times, and you then say your prayers with your hands still clasped holding the incense, finger tips above the eyebrows. The incense is placed outside. So me and Vanessa went to do it together, and we each prayed and made our wishes.

I brought her back in to get her fortune read since she likes that kind of stuff. At the side of the green Buddha is a tall bamboo cup thing, inside which are many flat sticks of bamboo. Each stick of bamboo has a number on it. You shake the bamboo cup gently until one stick falls out. Then you go to one of the shelves along the wall which has the number on your stick. Each shelf has papers on which is a fortune written in English, Thai, Khmer, and Chinese. Usually, if you ask the green Buddha for a wish, your fortune will always be relevant to what you asked for.

So Vanessa had this big grin on her face, since she really liked the experience. She was eager to tell me what she wished for, but I falsely told her not to, or it won’t come true, because I didn’t want her to ask me what I wished for. But I knew her wish had something to do with her and M. We put on our shoes and sat on the nearest bench to read our fortune papers. Vanessa had her mouth wide open and looked surprised. Her paper said that she was in the dark and had much suffering, but that someone from her past would return into her life who will come to bring her out of the dark and help her find her happiness again. Her fortune also said that a new relationship will begin for her. Unbeknownst to Vanessa, I asked the green Buddha to bring me back Vanessa when her time with M was completed, and that in exchange for this wish I will bring him 100 cartons of eggs each month for a full year. My fortune paper said roughly that my relationship is good, but that it will end in sorrow and suffering. I took my paper for my aunt-mom to read the Khmer verses which are more precise and accurate. My aunt-mom reads it and said that it’s saying that Destiny will take time before it brings me my khu.

One of the last things I remember that happened between me and Vanessa happened during the time when she and I were near the moment when we would part company again. It was a simple event during a simple day. Vanessa and I had gone to eat some sushi at a sushi bar by her place for lunch. She usually smokes a cigarette after meals, so after we had lunch we sat outside the sushi bar on the chairs provided to smoke a cigarette. We talked about nothing in general for a while, and then we just sat there quietly to enjoy the moment and the cigarette. I notice her staring into the horizon half dazed, as if her mind was far and not with me any longer. So I assumed she must be reminiscing about M again. I just sat their quietly minding my own business then. But in that distant state of mind of hers she blurts out half consciously either to herself or the both of us softly: “I want this. What we have here. I want to grow old with you. To sit like this as old ladies on two chairs in our front porch like this. I’d be happy.” I went with it and asked softly so as not to ‘wake’ her out of her state of mind: “Can you picture us together?” She says: “Yeah… I can… when I’m older.” And she goes silent for a few moments. I broke the brief silence and told her: “Remember the first time I met you, I told you I felt a weird feeling in me like I knew you from a past, and you said you felt the same weird feeling? That weird feeling had never left me.” She nods and says: “Yeah… me too. I still have that weird feeling,” and she snaps out of her trance and with a sharp change in tone said: “Come on bitch. Let’s go.”

A year passes by since I first reconnected with Vanessa. Early 2010. My last day in Vanessa’s life had come. Vanessa and M had become serious and had just moved out together. They had rented a cute little house in LA and had invited their friends for a house warming party/BBQ. Me and my partner were invited and asked to come early to help cook and prepare the stuff and just to hang out. I wasn’t sure what part of the LA we were in. We were given a tour of the little house and we drank some red wine and got the stuff ready. I had excused myself from the three so I could take a brief walk around the yard to look at the plants that grew around the house. I have a thing for plants, ever since I was 2 years old. As I checked out the plants I saw a Sign. The Sign was that my favourite plant in the whole plant kingdom was growing along the side fence of their new house. I thought it was just absolutely bizarre because it’s not a normal plant you see every where.

The plant is a vine. I only recently learned it’s name, but my affection for this plant goes way back to when I was in grade school. The plant is called “Moth Vine,” and is the secret inspiration for the “White Star” in “White Star Acception,” because its flowers are star shaped 5 petaled flowers. It’s called moth vine because moths pollinate it, which I actually didn’t know until recently. When I was in grade school my aunt-mom use to have me stay with her at her donut shop to help her out after school. Out side in the back fence of our store was a Moth Vine plant which was big and covered a large part of the fence. At first I didn’t pay any mind to it. But then during a season the plants pods bursts open and thousands of white puffs fill the air like nothing I have ever seen before. It looked like giant snow flakes to me. I thought it was very pretty. The puffs carry its seeds and they cover the parking lot like snow and get into all of the shops. So one of my chores was to broom the puffs and throw them away. I used to collect the seeds from the puffs I found, and I planted them in my own back yard so the plant can grow there and spread its puffs like a blizzard there too.

As I grew older, I became more attached to the vine. I gave it a name, and I “fed” it since I see my aunt-mom “feeding” the spirits in the parking lot. I would place donuts and fruits by it. And when the pods opened up I collected its seeds and promised my vine-friend that I’d plant its seeds wherever I go. I saved a dried up open pod from this original vine and I kept it in a safe place in my room. Today the original vine has died of old age. But I still have its dried pod shells now on my home Altar in my room with my Buddha statute. I also still carry it’s seeds and plant them around when I go hiking. Later my ideas of spreading “memes” was inspired by how this vine spreads its seeds in the wind. So for me, this vine has a personal and special meaning to me. It was a friend of mine. It was just a nice Sign to see this vine cover the side fence of Vanessa and M’s house. It put a smile on my face, and deep inside I understood what it meant, which comforted me, since the situation of Vanessa being with M made me feel unhappy or pensive at least. I didn’t not know how long they will together.

The house warming party was over. Me and K stayed late to help clean up, and then we left. Vanessa and M walked us to our car, and we gave each other hugs. M hugged me first and she goes to pull my partner aside to hug her and tell her how to find the freeway so me and Vanessa can have a moment. I held her for a long time, my last time. She said in my ear: “Thank you for coming. I love you.” I didn’t say anything for a while, I just wanted to be held by her for a while longer. My last words to her which I said was: “You’re welcome. I love you. I’m happy for you… I’ll see you again. Bye Vanessa.” That was it.

In the car we got lost and were just driving around the residential area. We didn’t know where we were since we weren’t familiar with the area. After a while my someone got us onto a street with a lake to my right. When I saw the lake, I immediately recognized it as a Sign, and knew exactly where I was, so I navigated my partner to the freeway from the lake. She had asked me how I know the area and I said that my family used to have picnics at that lake often.

The Sign the lake gave me was comforting and sent a chill down my spine, when I realized Vanessa had moves only blocks from the lake. The sign was long ago when I was young, 9 or 10 years old, I was at Chinatown with my little family shopping. I quickly broke away to wander nearby to a place where a Chinese guy was selling little plastic aquariums with tiny green water turtles in. Two in each container. I thought they were really cute so I bought a pair to keep as pets. It was April and we were buying some picnic food so we can have a picnic over at this lake. April 13th is Buddhist New Year day for the Thai, Khmer, and Lao people.

I took my two little turtles to go ask my aunt-mom if I can keep them; after I had already bought them for $5. My aunt-mom had become very upset with me. She gave me a lecture saying: “Some animals we don’t keep as pets. Dogs and cats are fine. Those turtles don’t belong with people. It’s wrong to take these animals from their land, their people, from their families. It’s not right to separate them from their parents and children, to make them suffer in containers like that. Would you want to be taken away from your people and family? You can’t keep them. You have to let them go. We’ll let them go at the lake.” I tried to beg her to let me keep them, but she wouldn’t have it. So I was just sulking and crying that day thinking how much I hate Buddhism and what a stupid religion it is. You can’t keep anything as pets because it causes suffering and stuff.

At the lake my aunt-mom took me with my two little turtles and she said she was going to teach me to let go of them like my grandmother taught her when she was my age. She first explained to me briefly saying: “In our culture, the old people say that the gods pair each one of us with another person to be with in life. So like everyone, you come into this world destined to be with someone the gods have picked for you. When the time is right, you and your Khu will find each other.” She asked me two repeat a little prayer to the turtles before I let them in the lake. I repeated after her saying [in Khmer]: “I’m sorry my people captured you two and caused you two suffering. As I let the two of you go, I ask the gods and the spirits of this lake to watch over you so that you two will have peace and happiness as a pair; so may I also then one day find the one Fate paired me up with, and so may my Khu and I also have our peace and happiness.”

On the freeway homeward bound, I was silent. Pensive and biting my nails. It felt like the more distant our car moved away from Vanessa and M’s house, the more distant Wyrd’s ebbing tide pulled Vanessa and me apart. I may never see her again, ever. But, in my gut, I trusted in Fate, So I Let-Go of my hold on Vanessa.

My someone, perhaps noticed I was pensive, so she asked: “What are you thinking about baby?” I lightly shook my head, then said: “That’s it I guess. I have no reason to be in Vanessa’s life anymore. I’ll change my number tomorrow. They’ll be fine together.” My partner with a confused look said: “What are you talking about? Baby I don’t care at all if you and her are friends. I don’t. You don’t want to be friends with her anymore?” I said: “It’s not like that. She’s just like us. When we were in the moment of our relationship when it first began we were so into each other, that all of our friends just faded into the background, and we hardly hung out with them or called them for a while. She’s that type of person too. I’m not stopping to be her friend. I’m just going to let her and M be peacefully together and let them lose themselves in their moment without me bugging. That’s all.”

I was thinking afterward in the car how stupid and foolish I was. How I disregarded a person here who was with me and who loved me to try and be with a person who didn’t love or want me. I felt awful inside for taking my partner for granted. So that night I promised myself that I would savour and enjoy every day I have with my partner. To appreciate her presence and love. Because I knew in the back of my mind that Fate has allotted to us a set Time, and that Time was short.

And for the next few years things between she and I were beautiful. But in her mind was the memory of me having kept a 7 month long friendship with Vanessa from her knowledge. In her mind she knows I got away with it for 7 months. And that wyrdful seed I had planted into her memory would one day wyrdfully – karmically – come back to haunt and hurt me. My own undoing, was seeded 3 years prior, by my own self.


Breaking up from a five year “committed” relationship isn’t as easy as things were in high school. It’s not like you can just fight and take off. After five years me and my partner were financially entwined. We shared the same bank account for all 5 years. This was one of the first things we shared since we knew back then that it would just be easier on us if we shared our money and resources. Sharing a bank account was something she and I were always good at. We never had any issue at all with the money. We had respective jobs and we’d put our money into that account and just share it. It quickly built up trust between us and help quickly push our relationship into something serious and mature. We also had credit cards and their bills under both our names as well. I used some of my money to put as a down payment on her car. Everything we bought when we were together was bought using “our” joint money.

I knew from early on since before things escalated that I’d have to try very hard to not go crazy on her and to keep things relatively amicable if I was to work out our financial situation right so I can get a good deal or at least most of my money back. Sitting at the table with her to separate our financial life was very difficult emotionally. Neither of us could look the other in the eyes. I didn’t want to look at her face or use her name because it both hurts to think of her and it make me angry. I guess she couldn’t look me in the eye because she is guilty of being unfaithful. It was also hard for me and maybe for her because I knew then and there at that table that it was undeniable that we were over. That 5 years have come crashing down. I gave her my initial proposal which I called the “60/40 Proposal.” I had during the months before things exploded outlined different proposals for splitting our financial life up. Our biggest problem was that for 5 years neither of us cared whose money was in our joint account. It had always been “our” cash, and we never cared how much was mine or how much of it belong to her.

My 60/40 Proposal was based the two party’s [me and her] Means & Condition. Meaning that I live with my family and so I don’t pay rent. I also have not very many bills. I also don’t really have to worry about jobs because my family has a few businesses I can always work at, and also I own ~$10,000 of “shares” in a family business or 1/3 of that business, so I collect a little profit from that monthly. Also my car is paid off. The only bills I have are my phone bill and my car insurance. Whereas she lives on her own so she has rent to pay, she has car payments, more bills than I do, and she is not as secure as me with job and secure cash flow. It takes a lot of “bullet biting” and discipline of mind and heart to be fair and considerate with a person who stepped all over you and broke your heart into pieces, because you feel like killing her for doing this to you.

So I laid out for her my 60/40 deal. I said to her that if she agrees to split the money in our bank account 60/40 where she takes 60% and I take 40%, I’ll take the two credit cards we owe the most in and she takes the other two we owe the least in. All the other petty belongings is off the record, and she doesn’t have to pay me back on what I put into her car. I asked her if she had her own reasonable proposals. I told her I made that proposal based on both our means and conditions and I thought it was fair and just, despite what happened. She liked my proposal and said that she honestly appreciated it. And so we signed a contract I had written and agreed to the terms of the 60/40 proposal. And we walked away after going to the bank. It was the first time we walked away from each other in 5 years where we didn’t hug or kiss. We didn’t say good bye either. Just looked at each other for a while, fighting tears, and we just walked to our cars.

To finally end the relationship all the way I sent a quick email to Marcos informing him of what went down, and that I lost the game. I wasn’t able to make her stay with me. Wasn’t able to make her not go to him. He kept his word, and I thanked him for that. But I would remove myself from her life, and promised that I would not interfere in their lives, should they start seeing each other again. I asked him to just be her friend at least. I gave them my blessings and wished him and her to be happy and at peace with their friendship or relationship, and reminded him that I had no ill will or feelings against him. And that was it. It was all over. And then it all sank in.

When you’re in the heat of the moment you have all this adrenaline and anger and all that in your veins, so things don’t sink in. It’s like a death of an old person in your family. You’re in such a weird state of mind and shock when it happens it doesn’t sink in where you realize the person is gone. Only after a while does it sink in. When it does, it hits hard. The pain you feel inside when someone you have loved for 5 years has cheated on you, is the most horrendous and excruciating pain I have ever felt in my life. And the worst part is that there is no pain killers you can take to relieve that pain. The terminating months of 2011 were the darkest months. But eventually I’d get over it. The feel you have inside after the many months of pain is quietude. Similar to when you cry hard for a long time and you exhaust yourself. Just after that exhaustion there is a feeling of something akin to tranquility and calmness. The feel after the heartache feels like just a quiet sorrow, and the mind becomes unclouded by the twists and turns of emotions where you begin to be able to analyze the five years for insights.

I spent the last half of 2012 calm, but sorrowful, reflecting back on my 5 year experience. I’m proud I was able to make one last that long. The vast majority of it was an beautiful experience. Now free from the torturous circumstances, I can even appreciate the bitter things that the relationship came with. Something about the fights we had, and even the betrayal I got made you feel more “alive.” Like the sweet taste wouldn’t be truly sweet without the bitterness. One thing I have learned from those 5 years is that we are human. It’s hard to put into words what that simple statement means. But I’ll take what things I have learned into the next relationship. I personally do believe that you can’t learn anything organically to be good at it without failure and mistakes made. The 5 years of being in a relationship with her were a successions of failures, errors, and foolish mistakes. From each failure and error, I learned something with which I was able to apply into that relationship to make it better and last longer. It was my first real adult relationship. It was a miracle it lasted that long. One thing I have learned from this experience is that it is not the mistakes we have made that is meaningful, but it is in how we each handle and fix our mistakes that shows a working organic intelligence.

There is a saying that goes: “When it rains, it pours.” In December of 2012 what was left of my sadness from my rough break up was gone and it was quickly replaced by another event which Life threw my way. My aunt-mom had become gravely ill all of sudden. I spent some time to help her out, and I stayed over at her house to help take care of her.

One night in December of 2012 I had a dream. In the dream my hair was very long, down to my calves. I got excited and I ran into my sister’s room and said to her: “Barb, look! My hair is long past my ass! I bet you if I wore a black dress I’d look like Morticia from the Addams Family!” She goes: “Yeah, you do. But that’s gunna take a lot of conditioner.” I woke up after that and retold the dream in my diary. I remember what it means. It meant that an old chapter of my life had come to a close, and a new act in my the pageantry of my Life was being prepared.

A month later, I had another dream. In this dream I parked my car in the evening at my little mom’s house to walk in. But in the front yard blocking the door was a giant anaconda the size of a car. This giant snake had a rattlesnake’s tail. It saw me and started to rattle its tail, and I backed up, but was too fascinated to run. It was the biggest snake I had ever seen. It’s head turned to look at me. I became afraid that it might chase me, so I was ready to run away, but I saw that it had eaten something big, so I knew that it wouldn’t be able to slither fast. So I stayed to look at it. The snake got bored of me and rested its head back on the ground.

At breakfast I told my aunt-mom and uncle-dad about this dream to let them interpret it for me. My aunt-mom says that when you dream about a snake it means somebody is thinking about you in a romantic way. Or that somebody is interested in you. My uncle-dad said in English that the size of the snake symbolizes the status and means of the person. If a small snake, it means the person who likes me may be poor, or may have a little reputation in their community, or may have a low rank at work. If the snake is large, it means the person who likes me may have money, or may be a well known person in their community, or may have a high position at their work place. I thought of Vanessa immediately. She has been working at her work place for over 6 years and has climbed the ranking system there. Last time I heard she was a manager of a section at her place.

Curious the next day I went to my grandmother house for her to do a traditional numerology thing for me to read my life. She and the aunts and uncles know who to do this. Traditionally, if you are interested in someone, your elders will add up your numbers and the numbers of the person you are interested in. From the numbers they can make a forecast of your life and relationship. How rich or poor you will be, the state of your health, and if you will last long together. In many cases, if the numbers don’t add up where they reveal that the couple is not compatible or that they will get into fights, or that the boy has bad financial habits, the marriage will be called off.

What I see them do is take the day of week you were born on, then the lunar month you were born on, then the animal year you were born in. Each day, lunar month and animal year gets a number I guess. Then they draw 12 dots in a row. Underneath I see two rows of numbers, and a final third row of numbers has only 9 numbers. The 12 rows are divided into three equal parts. The first part represents the years from birth to circa age 25. The second section represents age 25-50. The last section represents your old age. The elders can tell when in your life you will get very sick, when in your life you will meet your Khu, when you will have financial troubles and when you will be prosperous and so on. So I had my grandmother do a forecast of my life for me like this. I just secretly wanted to know about when I will meet my Khu. She adds up the numbers and I sit thru a boring read, and she says that when I am the age corresponding to the Western year 2014 it will be time for my Khu to come into my life, meaning that is the year I will be fated to meet the one I was paired up with.

With all that knowledge, I made a phone call to an old friend who worked in the same place Vanessa did. Over the years I had kept a friendship with my friend Donovan. Even though I am out of Vanessa’s life, and have not seen her or talked to her since 2010, I still have an informant who keeps me up to date on whatever he sees and hears. So, in reality, I never left her life. I ask my friend Donovan to do me a favour and somehow casually get information on Vanessa’s relationship status. If she is still with the same person [M], and tell me what’s up when he gets the data. He said he’ll get the data when the opportunity arises.

While I waited pensively for my friend Donovan to pass me the data, I one night made a deal with Fate. I told Fate in my head that I will stop resisting and will learn to play the bass guitar if it gives me a Sign. Just so I’ll know that I’m not crazy or wasting my time. A week and a half later Donovan called me up. He had learned some interesting things. Vanessa is no longer with M. He doesn’t know the details of why they broke up, but he says she has been looking very sad lately. So as of 2013 she is single, and sad. I have my suspicions as to what may have happened, based on what the Gypsy said.

I was sitting in the parking lot carefully looking at her new truck, looking for clues earlier while I was waiting for Donovan to call me. I noticed that her truck has a V6 engine. This leads me to hypothesize that she spends a lot of money on gas, since she works in Fullerton and lived out in LA. I deduced that if she one day broke up with M, that she will return to Fullerton for two reasons: 1) to save gas money, and 2) Fullerton is her Homebase where her friends, and relatives are at. I told Donovan this information and asked him to try and find out what’s up with her living arrangements. Where is she living at, what city. A week or so later Donovan informs me that Vanessa is living back in Fullerton in a one bedroom apartment. Now she is only 15 minutes away from me.

I kept my end of the deal with Fate. It had given me the Sign I wanted. Her ~4 year relationship has ended. I figured that while I wait a year for Vanessa’s heart break to heal, I’ll learn to play the bass guitar. Like two magnets pulled apart… drawn back to each other.



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