My Moment of Clarity

My last day in San Francisco, I was quite upset in the morning. Brett had left early back to Cupertino the previous night since he didn't have President's Day off and didn't want to deal w/ the traffic on Monday morning. Everybody else was either busy or out of touch. I was all by myself in my aunt's apartment. Going down to the marina and the beach usually does the trick, but I still felt tight around my neck and chest, my heart beating faster or even irregularly. Rage, jealousy and insecurity have been building up inside me.

I haven't had this feeling in a long while. The last known occurrences are when Anna and I split up and when Agie and I ended things on a sour note, both happened about an year and a half, almost two years ago. Both times I wanted to slit my wrists wide open and just let the blood gush out and add some color to my life. Thankfully there were some divine intervention and the worst thing I did was shaved my head Britney style and locked myself in my apartment for about 3 weeks. Partially because I couldn't get out of bed and partially because I realized what I have done and was waiting for my hair to grow back out. Sometimes I just have this fear and insecurity that I will end up alone, dying... friendless, loveless. This time around, although not as serious, but I guess my fling with Jaime might have something to do w/ it as well... I don't know what else to call it, involvement? kind of, sort of seeing each other?... Anyway, we decided to go our separate ways about two weeks before Valentine's Day and it was just awkward when the actual dreaded day rolled around. I hung out with her for a bit, but I had already given up our dinner reservation to my parents.

I don't do alone very well. My mind starts making up things: wild stories and puffed up tales that are spun from a seed of reality. It's my character flaw. I'm just psycho or manic depressive like that sometimes. At least now I know how to deal with it. I gave Jack and Margaret a text, see if they're working, perhaps they're free to talk. All I needed was some familiar voice, some confirmation that I still do have a friend somewhere in this world.

Jack suggested that I go read, take a walk, or even rent a porno (LOL), do anything except stay by myself and let my mind go crazy. After some light reading at Starbucks, I decided not to have any time constraints for the rest of the day before my Supershuttle pick up. I'm on vacation for Christ's sake! And I'm feeling more stressed out than I do than at work? Ridiculous. All I wanted to do was walk around, try to catch something beautiful, and squeeze the last drop of juice out of my camera's battery. At first I set course south for Golden Gate Park, but memory of how big the damn place is made me veer off to Lincoln Park instead. 15 years ago on my very first visit, I took a picture with the Golden Gate Bridge as the background. I suppose it's like homecoming in a way. I walked down the trail at Land's End from Eagle Point, quickly realizing not wearing socks was a big mistake for a 1.5 mile hike through the rough trail, not to mention on the way back.

Fortunately, I did find the exact spot where the picture was taken. I almost didn't recognize it because the trees in that area haven grown taller, blocking part of the view of the Bridge. As I sat on the park bench, I had a moment of clarity. It's so rare for me to not have a single thought in my head. Nothing. Nada. Zippo. I felt at peace with the world. Could it be the herb and garlic Dutch cheese that I was enjoying, or the mellow voice of Jack Johnson in my headphones? 15 years has gone by. I was 9-years-old then and in another 15 years I'll be almost 40. 40... that's a scary number. The Golden Gate Bridge with all its beauty and glory will undoubtedly still be there. But what about me? What will I be doing in 15 years? 30? Will I even live that long? How tall will those trees be? Should I maybe move to this lovely city that I seem to have some kind of connection with? I tried to read my own palm.. and I was quite pleased with the increasingly prominent success line splitting my hand in half like the Great Divide... from the base of my Fuck You finger, cutting through my Heart, Head, and Life line, towards my wrist.

Inner Bourdain-esque dialogue aside, everything seems to make sense. What I was fuming about just a few hours ago doesn't seem to even matter in the grand scheme of life, even the $75 parking ticket I received. Life is not all about my current P&L. Although I thoroughly enjoy my current job, I need to have an exit plan if it doesn't work out. I should test out the job market, maybe go work for a fund with one of the market wizards mentioned in the books I've been reading as an analyst. Get an MBA on the way and one day become a fund manager myself. Perhaps I should just let nature take its course, like the water flowing out to sea. If I continue to do the things I do in life with great passion, why shouldn't everything work out? After the Napa trip, I think I would do well w/ a travel agency. Working with my dad in our family business, it's natural for me to think in my head of time lines, what logistically needs to happen before the other. As a compulsive checklist-er, the planning is just not hard... especially when you have the vision of everybody's smiling faces on the return home. I also certainly wouldn't mind just opening up a record store on Haight Street, occasionally spin a few tracks myself.