My last living qualifier called me tonight. He was my chronic relapsing fiancé for 3 years and I broke it off 9 years ago. He wanted to know if I wanted to sail off with him to the Caribbean with him because he was being evicted from his skid row apartment soon. I hadn’t talked to him for a year when he was dying from sepsis in a hospital last summer.

he was shocked I had no interest in running off to an Island with him! Of course... I would pay and deal with alcoholic mooosh brain (he assured me he only socially drank now).

they are all dead now in their addiction. Dad. My brother. But this guy is like a vampire. He is outliving everybody and defying the odds.

he has been at deaths door at least 9 times. Maybe more. I told him his nickname was No llonger Christopher Robin but Christopher Cat... because he had not 9 but 19 lives.

How mystifying that someone can be blessed with so many deep andnear death experiences with high IQ, good looks, tons of charisma and charm and even spirituality and never get that white light blinding bottom deflation at depth?

so mystifying. So confusing. So heartbreaking. He was a huge love...’maybe my true love... but now ... just a moooosh brain. Dying every so slowly in skid row la. He once was in penthouses charming everyone with his electric smile and sparkling blue eyes.

now he is a zombie... but swears he is sober! Even has an unopened bottle of wine in his skid row apartment! And at one time was an amazing, incredible, sweet man in authentic recovery.

so .... hard to accept. But I have. And I am strong. And I am happy. Despite his choices.

shed a tear... moving on.