Hello Tyler. Say hello Tom. Hi Tyler. Hello Tom.
I'm happy about our final conversation. It was a difficult one to have and I was pleased to practice with you in setting boundaries, sharing feelings and past hurts. You shared confusing behaviors as a small boy, how in this week of August at some point you married your first wife and another point your mother died and now at this point the mental health condition of the woman who you provided room and board for the past year and a half worsened. You began to weep - something you are known to never do.
When I shared my boundary, Tom posed the consideration for why do I feel so indignant when he says time does not exist. I shared how the notion is profoundly ignorant. Without boundaries there would be no space, any motion of boundaries inherently possesses time. When Tom made his comments that "time does not exist" he did so when a person who was engaged in a conversation with him said they "didn't have the time for . . ." I suggested some alternative statements, at least in my presence. Again he encouraged me to consider why I felt so indignant and again I shared about inherent existences. He did not wish to pursue the metaphysical rabbit hole where he would feel trapped.
I then asked Tom what is existence? after he again for the third time encouraged me to consider why I felt so indignant when he says time does not exist. Tom did not have a response for existence other than he did not know what is existence. I said I haven't given much thought also into what is existence but I have discovered a part of existence, "We do not need proof of God's existence - existence is proof."
We sat quietly for a while thereafter. He gets a text from a mutual friend and goes to the bathroom and I to the balcony for a smoke. On our reunion after our intermission Tom shares how he would not like me sharing his personal business as they do not know all the circumstances. I shared how I was feeling vulnerable. We shared our appreciation for one another for being able to share what we are feeling and why.
After another moment of silence we discover the mentally distressed woman will arrive to "pack up." I remind Tom that I cannot stay at his apartment all day and he has a choice to let her in or not and that someone else who is likely more sane will arrive with a truck to load up her stuff. He chose to allow her entry. He seemed compelled to help the forlorn woman although his help was hapless to his health.
I go about my day and in the evening at twenty after twenty-two returned Tom's voicemail requesting boxes. He was likely dead by then as the last time he called me was twenty of seventeen. I did not find out about Tom's death until Sunday afternoon from the dear Melanie E.
That was my last day with Tom but not the last of his influence.
Written Friday of Venusweek about the morning of Thursday of Tuesweek of Late Summer 2020. Published Venusday of the Sunweek of Early Autumn 2020.
This is amazing
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