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Well, apparently Divine Universal Intelligence has decided that I'm to revisit the topic of Steve's (my ex) death. This morning, on my way to work, I saw the guy that was Steve's BF when he died. I hauled a u-turn in the middle of Vine street hollering this guy's name, he was just as freaked to see me as I was to see him. I haven't seen this guy in about 5 years, when I moved out of crazyhouse. Why I moved into crazyhouse in the first place deserves it's own thread. Anyhow, I found out about Steve's death about two years after the fact, from the people who had moved into the house when Steve died and his BF moved out. Nobody contacted me, and I had no contact number, or even a last name to work with for the BF. I didn't have much of an emotional reaction at the time, because I had anticipated Steve's death for such a long time.
This morning I finally lost it.
After getting his number and getting back into my truck, I experienced the kind of howling emotional freakout normally reserved for seeing airliners crash into skyscrapers.
I'm absolutely gobsmacked. A large part of living sober is learning to live with unresolved issues. I've been given an incredible opportunity to lay some of my worst demons to rest.
Think what you like, this, to me, is evidence of a Higher Power at work.
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Does anyone still wear a hat? 
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