He gets out early, and doesn't tell me!

So you may have figured out that the "Meditation Retreat" was actually jail. A six day sentence because the system is fucked, and it's a better option to go to J A I L than miss six days of work to pay a fine that you have no way of doing unless you're making over six figures (hint, we're not). So after months of agonizing over this, a failed attempt to turn him in early, the day finally came. I pray that he uses this time to concentrate on himself, to heal, to gain clarity, to be sober. I plan on practicing as much discipline as possible over theses six days, although I have enough on my plate to stay fully distracted the entire time. And I pray. My god I pray. I pray for his safety non stop. I spend monday running from appointment to appointment thinking about him nonstop, and praying that he's okay. I go to bed that night and pray. I wake up the next day and pray. I repeat the same over booked day, praying between actual work thoughts all of Tuesday.

And then I get a phone call from his phone at nine o'clock that night. How is this possible?! He was released that morning. Nearly twelve hours earlier. Less than twenty four hours after he turned himself in. And he waited an entire day to call and tell me. Saying that there was a problem with his phone. But that he'd memorized my phone number before he went in, so that was good, he'd said. He went fishing with his best friend J, who had picked him up. So while I'm out here losing my fucking mind to the point that I'd found religion again, he didn't call on his phone, on a pay phone, on his friend's phone, on his parent's phone, or, just simply drove out to see me. Who the fuck does that?

#SingleinOakland