Hey man nice shot.

“You never know
who will turn into
what.

You never know
what the best

pieces of yourself
become. But I can say,

that a lot of the best
parts of me

come from the parts
of you that we learn
together in this

process.” He has blue
eyes, red hair and a

pierced lip. Has

worked his ass off
since day one – has
given me his

art work and morphed
from sick junky
detoxing hard

to a person that
meditates, and draws,

and writes. Today, his
last day before he goes
back to his old house

to pack it up and

move out here for
aftercare.

We sit quietly.

His palms to mine
my palms to his.

“We are going to

breathe together,
you are going to
look into my eyes

and
as you are there,
packing up your
life – if you get

overwhelmed I want
you to remember this
moment, and to

breathe, and that
you can make it

out if you just
keep moving.

We take a series
of deep breaths
together.

“It is just so important
that you keep

moving.”

He nods his head.
Our eyes

mutual tears, a
long embrace.

I scribble my work
email address to a
scrap of paper.

Hand it to him.

“It’s ok to be
scared fucking
shitless. This is

your life or
death. It is that
real.

I hope to see you
in a meeting

when you make it back
to Nevada.”

I walk out.
Sparing him the
story of how I

have enough
guardian angels
that never saw a

25th birthday.

Because we never
know who will turn

to what. We just
think we

do.

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