“It will be my first year of being sober tomorrow!”

Old mate said. He left his seat, and sat right next to me at the brekkie place. I haven’t dropped by for a while. This is the third time I see him. He never forgot my name. Since the first time, he’d always left his seat, and just hung out with me whenever he sees me.

“Wow! Congratulations!” I beamed at him! Proud of old mate!

 

He’s still dealing with his anxiety. “It’s just there, beneath the surface.”

“What would you like to have happen when it’s just beneath the surface?”

“I want to control it and feel calm.”

“You ever had an experience where you were calm?”

“When I meditate and pray.”

“And when you meditate and pray, what happens?”

“I inhale all the serenity and exhale all the anxiety.”

Then he clasps his palms together, folding his fingers, save for the index fingers pointing up. “I can do it anytime, if I put my fingers this way.”

“That’s awesome! (Bubble thought: awesome, he’s anchored a great state!) I can’t even do it myself! I just write. It’s how I feel calm.”

“I used to write a lot with journals. But then I stopped.”

He’s worried coz he’s lost a bit of weight lately. He not only stopped drinking, he also limited his sugar intake. “That’s good!” I said. He said his brain is always active. I suspected he’s one of those intelligent ones. An insatiable mind is a sign.

“The psychologists also tested your IQ?”

“Yes, and they said it’s high.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your IQ?”

“They said it’s 150 or something. I’m not sure how that compares really.”

“Well that’s pretty high!”

Bubble thought: that’s higher than the Mensa minimum score.

We talked about what preoccupies him. He’s obsessive about cooking, especially those 5-minute easy to prepare gourmet dishes. I shared stories about this bipolar chef in Philippines with a restaurant Van Gogh is Bipolar who also employs other bipolars. He was inspired.

We talked about a lot of other things. His family, his work, etc.

“You know who to vote for?” I asked.

“Not really. I don’t think I’m gonna vote.”

“Are you Republican or Democrat.”

“I’m neither. I think God gave me a mind as a gift to not simply go by man-made lines of thinking.”

 

He asked me when I’m leaving town. He wants to make sure he doesn’t miss me before I leave. He said he needed to go now to his AA. He’d been looking at the clock and squeezing every minute left with our conversation.

“You have a pen and paper?” He asked. I handed him my journal, with the Synchronicity on the cover.

“That’s a music by the Queens.”

“You love music?”

“It’s my 2nd religion!”

He wrote his number.

“Just in case…” he said.

I maintain a light demeanour but I sense the weight of those three words. I gave him a hug. “I’ll still be here!”

He smiled, “I’ll see you around!”