The rest is history

I just saw off my friends, the couple who let me stay at their apartment for my last month here in LA.

By the time they are back in mid-Nov, I’ll be long gone.

They’re going to East Coast for a long business trip. They wanted me to stay longer so I could say goodbye to them after they are back.

I couldn’t.

Barbara, my friend back in shanghai is leaving for Australia in early November. My student visa may be shaky since I’m not enrolling for any classes. I have to go even though I don’t want to.

Sitting in my friends’ spacious living room, now even more spacious without the two of them and their dawg, I tried to do my daily meditation. I couldn’t. Something stuffed in my chest. My breath has been shallow for the last few weeks for all kinds of reasons.

Today there is something more.

I first met the husband at Trader Joe’s when we were in the queue. I asked him about the LA June Gloom weather. That extended to an half-hour conversation outside the grocery shop until his wife called asking where {on earth} he was.

And the rest is history.


Yours truly,