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# The Rivers that Rose: Second Lifetime
- URL: https://northstar.ghost.io/the-rivers-that-rose-second-lifetime/
- Published: 2026-09-16T05:56:22.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-16T07:08:32.000Z
- Description: Ari returns to the table to describe the second lifetime. A mother, a river, and a story he struggles to hear follow him into the rest of the evening.
- Author: NorthStar

The Rivers that Rose Second Lifetime

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Total Eclipse → Solar Return

# The Rivers that Rose:Second Lifetime

(2/3)

March 23, 2025

“Five more minutes!” 

Ari took a stool. The bartender set a napkin down as if the napkin itself were a question. 

“Cosmo?” 

the bartender offered. 

Ari laughed. 

“I’ll have a water.” 

“Not your thing?” 

the bartender asked, smiling. 

“Yeah, no. I’m not into chick drinks.” 

He said it with a straight face. The bartender handed over the water and turned to the next person. 

The woman next to him did not look over until she did. Elegant. Still. The kind of face that made a man decide too quickly whether he was being measured or dismissed. 

“What’s the matter? Do cosmos trigger your toxic masculinity?” 

she said, taking a sip. 

Ari didn’t know whether to be attracted or annoyed. A few guys arrived and stood by. Feeling strangely possessive, he edged closer and smiled like he had already chosen the joke. 

“No. I don’t like cosmos because they taste like Capri Sun with piss and jizz in it.” 

The guys laughed. Ari laughed with them. The woman did not. 

“I just took a massive dump after all that past-life crap! I can’t believe I got dragged into this,” 

one of them said, glancing at a man who could have been his twin. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up. Like you got anything better to do anyway,” 

his twin shot back. 

“Hey, how much for a drink?” 

another guy yelled toward the bar. 

“Eleven dollars and eleven cents!” 

the bartender called. 

“GOOD ONE!” 

a cluster of women yelled, then laughter, then applause. 

The bartender laughed. The woman beside Ari laughed. Ari and the guys looked at the women, then at each other, the same confused look passing between them. None of them got it. Ari sighed and went back to his phone. 

His ex still wasn’t home. He was getting pissed off. Another Furbo alert. Rosie had been alone long enough for the old panic to start its small, faithful work. He checked for a reply that did not come. 

The man who’d asked about the price spat out his first sip. 

“Y’all are insane if you think I’m paying more than five bucks for that,” 

he said, setting the glass back on the bar. 

“Why are cosmos the only choice anyway? Couldn’t come up with a more interesting menu?” 

another guy shouted. 

Ari jumped in, louder than he meant to. The name came up like something he’d seen on a chalkboard at a tarot bar and never quite put down. 

“Like Hex on the Beach?” 

A few people nearby laughed. 

“Yeah! Some weird shit like that!” 

one of the guys said. 

Two facilitators looked over. Guides, they were called. Guidance counselors for God knows what... 

“When will you guys figure out that we do not want you drinking alcohol?” 

one of them said. 

“It’s not good for your kind. It’s important you stay hydrated,” 

the other added, already walking away. 

“OKAY, MOM!” 

someone else at the bar shouted. 

“Guys, were we just part of a hate crime?” 

“The discrimination!” 

The guys joked and laughed. Ari said nothing. He just looked confused, water in one hand and the phone in the other, beginning to wonder how they sounded to everyone else. 

The woman set her glass down and stood. He wanted to say something that would put the room back in order. 

“Class, not crass,” 

his mother used to say, as if manners could outrun a mouth. The group leader called them before he found the sentence. 

“Alright. Let’s take a seat at the circle.” 

The group leader pointed over to the opposite side of the lounge, a beautifully lit area where people could just lie back and relax on the couches; the kind of hominess and comfort that reminded him of a hookah bar. The group took seats, many of them on the ground with their legs crossed. 

“We are going to begin the next hour processing the second lifetime with your guide.” 

“Before we do that—breath. Then stretch.” 

They did the work. Then they returned to their one-on-ones. Ari sat across from his guide and tried to look like a man who had not spent the break becoming a boy at a bar. 

“Alright, you hyped it up enough! Tell me about the second lifetime.” 

Ari laughed. 

“I know, right! This was the one my past life reader said stood out to her the most. I still can't seem to understand why. Maybe you can help me out?” 

“Help with what, exactly?” 

“Make it make sense.” 

“Oh,” 

he laughed. 

“We are not here to make it fit. We are just here to let it live. So, go ahead. Whenever you are ready to begin. What did she tell you happened in that second lifetime?” 

Ari began. 

“Well, it's sad, really. That's an understatement.” 

He noticed himself getting uncomfortable. He fidgeted. He looked over at his phone and saw the time. 

“I mean, I know I hyped it up and everything, but don't get too excited. It's actually quite devastating.” 

His legs were shaking. 

“You know, we don't really need to talk about it. I mean, the last one we just talked about makes perfect sense, and we were able to spend the whole hour talking about it. But I really don't think there's much to say about this one. I don't think we'll need as much time. Do you think maybe we could end early?” 

The guide, noticing Ari's phone face up on the table this time, replied with calm composure and a genuine smile. 

“Well, just do your best. You might be surprised by what we find. What was that experience like?” 

This time, Ari described it in a way that took the person listening back to the moment, as if it were happening in real time. 

Past Life Regression Analysis 

“There was a lifetime where you were a young woman. A widow, specifically, after your husband died. You had a lovely son, about eight or nine. Then one day, your little boy was playing outside in the sun, just enjoying his time—” 

Ari interrupted. 

“Wait a minute.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you sure it's a boy? Not a girl?” 

“Yeah,” 

she answered. 

Ari kept his eyes fixed on her, as if hoping she'd change her mind. The reader, confused, was about to resume, then stopped herself, looked back up at Ari, and asked why, as though she was genuinely curious. 

“Because of the sun.” 

Now she looked even more confused. Ari almost laughed when he said it, because he knew how it sounded. 

“I'm sorry. When you said son, I know you meant s-o-n. But I heard s-u-n. Every single time I pull a tarot card for Rosie, she gets the Sun card! How cool is that?” 

“Oh, okay. I'm sorry, who's Rosie?” 

“Oh, my dog.” 

“Oh, okay, cool. You have a dog. What kind?” 

“The best kind.” 

They laughed. 

“She's a senior puggle. I share her with my ex.” 

It got quiet. 

“That's adorable,” 

the reader said. 

“The puggle part. Not so much the sharing-with-the-ex part.” 

They both laughed. 

“I see now. So when you heard son, as in your boy was basking in the sun, or whatever I said, playing outside in the sun, you thought about the Sun card. And that made you think about your dog, Rosie, because every time you pull for her, you get the Sun.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Huh.” 

The reader seemed intrigued. She got up, grabbed her tarot deck, and looked at Ari. 

“May I?” 

“Sure!” 

Ari said it excitedly. She shuffled the deck. Closed her eyes. Muttered something under her breath. Drew the top card. The Sun. Her eyes widened. 

“Wow!” 

She turned it over to Ari as he leapt up from his chair to take a look. 

“Badass!” 

Ari said it smiling from ear to ear. 

“Did you know that the Sun card in tarot is known to be the happiest card in the entire deck?” 

“I didn't! But I believe it. She makes me happy, and I like to believe I make her happy as well.” 

“Okay. Just a moment.” 

The reader closed her eyes, opened them again, and reaffirmed. 

“Yeah. In that lifetime, I'm sure it was a boy. Not a girl.” 

“Thanks for checking. I'm sure it doesn't really matter. I don't plan to have kids anyway. Rosie is just the closest I've ever had to one.” 

“Well,” 

the reader said as she put the tarot deck away and returned to her seat, 

“we are all soul. So even if you were a woman and had a boy in that past lifetime, and you are a man with a girl dog-child in this lifetime, either way, the memory remains, because we are all connected at the soul level.” 

“Yeah, but I don't have any conscious memory of it.” 

“And you may or may not. Sometimes we remember, sometimes we don't. The point is not remembrance. The point is recognition. So even if you don't remember, you can still recognize there's a lesson to learn, or something to overcome, or a pattern to break once and for all for generations to come. For some people, they never consciously remember. For others, the memory remains dormant until something activates it. And even then, they may not have awareness of the particular lifetime, but their body remembers. Their nervous system kept score, because the energetic imprint of those emotions, which are energies, continued onward with the soul as it incarnated into separate forms.” 

“Okay, I think I get it. Not sure I believe it, but go on.” 

“That's the best part, Ari.” 

“What's that?” 

“Your belief is not required for it to remain true.” 

Ari felt humbled and looked down at his hands. The reader continued. 

“So your son was playing in the sun.” 

She and Ari laughed. 

“His mother in that lifetime—” 

“Which was me, apparently.” 

“Yes. You were looking out from the window of the house, keeping an eye on him.” 

“Was he playing with anyone?” 

“You know...” 

The reader took a moment. 

“I'm not sure. I don't see anyone else.” 

“I think he got that from his mother.” 

They laughed. 

“But then something happens.” 

Her tone changed. Her face got serious. Ari continued to joke. 

“Let me guess. The plot twist?” 

She nodded gently and continued with a serious look on her face. 

“You looked away for one moment as you were getting ready for supper, and when you returned to the window, he was gone.” 

“Oh shit. Sounds like he's also a magician!” 

The jokes weren't easing the tension the way they tend to, so he started getting uncomfortable. 

“Sorry. Go on.” 

He unfolded his legs, sat up with his hands crossed, giving the posture that says, I'm taking this seriously now. The reader went on. 

“You ran outside. You couldn't find him. But then you heard screaming from a distance. You caught up to the sound of his cries.” 

Ari's chest tightened. 

“You were screaming his name. It was a long time ago. A time of struggle and survival. Farming and famine. But you worked hard and always did just enough to get by. You kept him fed. He was a happy child.” 

Ari thought again about the Sun card. The happiest card in the deck. 

“Until he wasn't. Until that day. You kept screaming his name, louder and louder, but his voice got fainter and fainter.” 

Her voice cracked. Ari stiffened. 

He listened to people cry every day at work. He hadn't expected it here, from the reader, over a life he wasn't even sure had happened. 

The reader cleared her throat, took a sip of water, and continued. 

“You were running toward a river. The waves were like the weather. Tumultuous that day.” 

Great. This keeps getting better, Ari thought to himself, but didn't dare say out loud. 

“Your son was in the water. Drowning.” 

Ari's face changed. 

“You could see his hands above the water. They were becoming smaller and smaller as he sank lower and lower. You were screaming, 'I'm coming,' as you were running toward the river. You were yelling his name. And screaming in vain for help that wasn't available.” 

Ari looked away. Trying to shake the image from his head. 

“You made it to the river. You didn't know how to swim. But you jumped in anyway. The currents were getting heavier. He was getting farther and farther. Smaller and smaller. You couldn't go any further. The water began taking you in as well.” 

Ari leaned forward with suspense. 

“You were fighting the waves. Fighting to stay alive. Fighting for his life. But you kept sinking deeper anyway. Just like he did. In the same way. You died with him.” 

Ari looked down. Damn. Now all of a sudden he was starting to get choked up. The room got quiet after that. 

Silence. 

Ari looked up at the reader, whose eyes remained closed, as if she were channeling it. 

Stillness. 

Ari looked back down at the floor, noticing its patterns. He turned inward in this moment. He did not know this story, yet he felt the devastation of it before he could decide whether he wanted to identify with it. 

He kept seeing the mother running toward her child. He couldn't remember being her. Even imagining what she'd reached the river to find felt like trespassing. 

The reader broke the silence with a final statement. 

“Just not that day.” 

Ari was confused. Did he miss something? Did she speak while he was deep in thought and he didn't hear it? 

“So I made it to the river, but my boy, he didn't make it out alive. Then we both died?” 

“Yes...” 

“Just not that day.” 

Ari's eyes widened and he got impatient. 

“Wait, I'm confused. What do you mean?” 

“By the time you woke up—” 

“Wait, I regained consciousness? So I was alive?” 

“Yes.” 

Ari grabbed his water bottle and looked annoyed, thinking she could have led with that or at least ended with it. 

“Your body had reached the shore. You opened your eyes, coughing out water. You turned your head over. Next to you lay another body. Your—” 

“Don't say it.” 

She nodded. Another moment of silence. 

“When you realized that even though his body also made it to shore, he was not conscious the way you were, you began doing CPR.” 

“You became louder, screaming out for others. But there was no one in sight. And by that time, it was night. You screamed, you begged, you pleaded. No one came to help. You lay there next to his deceased body.” 

“A day or two later, a group of military men marched by. They tried to pick you up, but you wouldn't let them take you away from him.” 

“You kept screaming out, 'My child, my child, my child.' They kept trying to tell you he had already died. That you were still alive. That you had time. But you kept screaming out, 'My child, my child, my child.'” 

“A group of men grabbed the boy at one point, and you started screaming and raging at them, saying, 'Don't let them take my boy,' and they looked at you and said, 'We have to return him to the river. I'm sorry. It's too late. It does you no good to watch him decompose like this while the maggots get what's left of him. Kids will pass by. Let us take you to see a doctor. Let us return him to the river.'” 

“The woman became what they described as hysterical. She wanted to go and be with her child. So she kept trying to fight the men who were holding onto her.” 

“And once they grabbed the arms and legs of the boy and picked him up, she bit the arms of the men holding her and ran toward the group of men who were putting the boy's deceased body on a boat.” 

“The boat began sailing away, and once again she was screaming out, trying to get there in time.” 

“While in the river, she chose in that moment to no longer fight.” 

Ari was intellectualizing everything in his head. That makes sense, he thought to himself. 

> It sounds like she was in a dysfunctional freeze state, looking up at the sky, dissociating for days — dorsal vagal shutdown, body playing dead because fight and flight weren't options. Then all of a sudden, survival mode activated. 
> 
> Amygdala firing. Sympathetic nervous system slamming into overdrive. Allostatic load stacked up from days in shutdown. No vagal brake left to catch it. The body cannot help but break down. 
> 
> So was she really suicidal, or was her body out of batteries? Did she really want to die with her boy, or did she just have no energy left to keep herself from drowning? 
> 
> Maybe both, Ari thought. Maybe by then there was no difference between the two. 
> 
> He couldn't let it go — kept running it through his head, the nerves and the psychology and the story tangled together, no clean line between them. 

Ari's attempt to conceptualize everything clinically was interrupted by the reader saying his name. 

“Ari.” 

He immediately became present again. 

“Everything okay? You look deep in thought.” 

“Sorry. Yeah, I was just thinking about a lot. I think I heard you. I think you said I drowned. As in, the mother drowned?” 

“No.” 

The reader clarified. 

“The soldiers got you out in time.” 

“Damn. So I had to go on living?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Without my son?” 

“Yes.” 

“How does anyone even do that?” 

“I'm still trying to figure that out.” 

Ari looked up, and in that moment there was a role shift. He listened. It turned out the reader could connect in some way to the very message in a way Ari couldn't. 

Ari felt a selfish flicker of relief. Maybe she was picking up on her own grief. He could go home with that explanation. It might even be the reason he's able to sleep. 

Ari became nonchalant as he wrapped up explaining the story to the guide. 

“And that's the end of that. So sad, right? Not as cool and badass as the first one.” 

The guide's eyebrows rose. Ari recognized the concern on his face and heard his own joke a moment too late. 

“I'm sorry. That's not appropriate.” 

“I'm sorry that happened. Sounds tragic.” 

“Luckily, I don't remember it. And honestly, I don't believe it. It doesn't resonate at all. I've never had a kid, lost a kid, and I don't plan on having any kids, so I think it was obvious that she was probably picking up on her own stuff. And that is tragic. I feel bad for her.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. It sounds like, in that lifetime, the mother's body continued to exist.” 

“Right.” 

“Did she tell you anything else about the rest of that life? Did she remarry? Did she have another child?” 

Ari laughed. 

“Hell, no!” 

Ari laughed, then straightened himself out with a serious look on his face. 

“Sorry. I've been told I have inappropriate affect.” 

“It shows.” 

“I know. Basically, the mother in that life that the reader thought was me never actually moved on. Never actually lived another day. I mean, she really might as well have died with her child. I'm not sure it would've made a difference that she remained alive, because the reader said that I, as in the mom, was basically a walking death. Apparently, I would return to the river. That very same river my son died in. I mean, who does that? Everyone thought she was crazy, because she'd stay out there for days, until she passed out and someone brought her back or something like that.” 

Ari said it nonchalantly. 

“She kept herself isolated from everyone. No friends, no family, no one. Apparently she lived a long life, died old, but could never really move on. Which makes sense.” 

“Why does that make sense to you?” 

“Because what happened to her was senseless. So how does she go on living in a way that makes sense?” 

“Perhaps that's your work. In this lifetime. The soul lesson.” 

“Oh, that's right! In fact, you just reminded me. The reader said something about this being the lifetime that stood out the most because the lesson was the loudest, something along those lines. And I was like, good thing I never had a child with my ex, because now it looks like I just cheated a timeline as tragic as death.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Well, we never ended up having a child, despite planning for two or three for a long time. And that would've been the only way this lesson could've been repeated. So it looks like I got out of a shitty situation that would have forced me to learn a lesson that I now no longer have to deal with, because I jumped timelines!!” 

“I'm not sure that's how lifetimes work, Ari. I mean, I hope it's true, time being fluid and all, and you having already done tremendous healing in your life. But remember what you quoted her saying at the beginning. It's not about body. It's about soul. And the soul lessons take many different forms in many different ways, depending on the lifetime.” 

Ari shook his head. 

“I don't plan on adopting a child. We just spent the last hour talking about how attached I get to kids, like the one from DCFS who ended up as my client. And like I said, that situation doesn't sound anything like this. And I've already done a lot of inner work with my inner child. So I think it's safe to say I've graduated.” 

The guide smiled. 

“Ari, what were your final days like? In that lifetime?” 

Ari looked confused. 

“Oh, you mean the mother?” 

The guide nodded. 

“Honestly, I wish I could say it got better. But it didn't. The reader basically said there were many years throughout that woman's life where grief took over her will to live, many times. And by that I just mean, there were even points in time where she would try to drown herself in that same river, but someone else always swam out to save her.” 

“She'd be furious with them for saving her life. Basically, she became very suicidal and began raging at others, so they called her hysterical. Like, the villagers, the community of people, and they voted to have her taken to an asylum. And that's where she lived, to be an old little lady, until she died.” 

“It's kind of sad if you really think about it. She would've died much sooner if she wasn't in a room with padded walls. That's how much the grief had consumed her.” 

The guide nodded. He reached for Ari's hand across the table and held onto it with both hands, gently. Ari stared back. 

“Thank you for sharing your past lifetime with me.” 

Ari got a little defensive. 

“Well, it was just a reading. I mean, like I said, it could've just been a fictional story, or it could've had to do with somebody else, not me.” 

“I understand what you're saying,” 

the guide responded. 

“And I hear you naming a boundary. But let me ask you this, Ari.” 

He paused, then continued. 

“Would you remarry?” 

“Like, if I were her? The mother? I don't know.” 

“No. As you, Ari. Would you remarry?” 

“Oh, I wasn't married. I was engaged.” 

“I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. Would you propose again? Be engaged again, to anyone else?” 

“Probably not. No.” 

“Tell me this, Ari. If that boy was in fact a girl, and that girl's name was Rosie, and she drowned in the river that day, and you, being as you are now, as Ari, couldn't get to her in time. Would you have another dog--child?” 

“No. Absolutely not. But that would never happen to Rosie, because she keeps getting the Sun card, and that's apparently the happiest card in the deck. So she's good, and she will live a long life.” 

“That may be so, Ari. I certainly hope so.” 

“She will.” 

“You seem confident.” 

“I am.” 

“Do you carry that same level of confidence when it comes to your will to live a long life?” 

“Sure. I mean, yeah. My health has turned around, and I've only gotten better since the relationship ended, seeing that my ex doesn't drive me crazy anymore. I don't see any reason not to live.” 

“But what if you had a reason, Ari? What if you were like the mother in your past lifetime? What if you had every reason not to live? Then what do you think would happen?” 

“Well, I haven't exactly had a good life, and I'm still here. So I guess that tells us something, doesn't it? I mean, I never lost a child, and I wouldn't wish that on even my worst enemy. But I think it's safe to say I'd find a way to make it out alive. And live a long life, just like I did in that lifetime, assuming it's even mine...” 

“Yes, but remember the lesson, Ari. It's not about how long you live or how much time goes by. It's about the quality of life. The way in which you choose to spend that time.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because, for someone who repeatedly denies the possibility of this being his previous lifetime, you certainly seem to think along the same lines as the woman did. Which means, even if it is true that it wasn't your lifetime, perhaps it can still be true that it is your soul lesson in this one?” 

Ari gave him a confused look. The guide clarified. 

“Or that there's still something meaningful, and of value to you, that can come out of this experience?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like the kind of learning that can take lifetimes. To learn what it means to truly live.” 

“So basically, you guys are saying I'm gonna have to learn a lesson that I failed to learn before, based on this ridiculous lifetime that I don't even believe happened to me, let alone believe even happened. But that's beside the point.” 

“So what, the mother needed to not be hysterical somehow? She needed to remarry, have another kid? You're suggesting I propose again and get another dog, even though I have literally no reason, and even if I did, it's not that simple. Souls are not simply replaceable.” 

“You are right, Ari. I am not in any way suggesting that they are. You make a good point, and I want to add to it. In that lifetime, based on the way you were living, or she was living, at the time, had she been forced to remarry, or forced to have a child, the cycle would have repeated itself, and she would've lost them as well.” 

“That sounds cynical, and also brutal. Why, again?” 

“The lesson was never to escape the darkness. The lesson was to learn to stay with yourself when you're in it. Enough to shed light on the shadow selves. Enough to witness and be present with the parts of yourself that refuse to live.” 

“That was a direct quote from me. I had just met with a suicidal client earlier in the week.” 

“Wait. How could you—” 

“You tell your clients this all the time.” 

“Yeah. I do. But how could you—” 

“Ari, you tell others to live their truth. Perhaps it's time you do, too.” 

“Okay, first of all, how could you possibly know that? I'm serious. These sessions are confidential, and I want to make sure no one is listening.” 

“No one is listening, Ari. We just know things.” 

Ari, looking confused. 

“Okay. Second of all, for the millionth time, this isn't my lifetime. So you don't need to be telling me to practice what I preach when I'm not even going through similar things.” 

“Not yet, Ari.” 

“No. Not fucking ever! You hear me?” 

“Ari!” 

“No! I told you, I'm not going to ever be with anyone again. And I don't know if that's just the grief talking, or my truth right now. All I know is, I'm never gonna propose to anyone ever again! I'm never gonna have a kid, or get another dog, for some random-ass reason! So there's no way in hell I could possibly need to learn this lesson. Which I think, then, is fair to conclude that maybe, just maybe, it isn't a lesson I need to learn. Or maybe it's a lesson I've already fucking learned!” 

“Why are you getting upset?” 

Ari leapt out of his chair and pointed at the guide. 

“Because I still haven't heard from anybody!” 

Ari yelled it. 

“What does that mean, Ari?” 

Ari gestured loudly, continually pointing at the guide as he made his point. 

“It means I'm already experiencing a lifetime of loss as we are talking!” 

“Everything okay?” 

the group leader said from across the room. The guide nodded. Ari leaned into him and said quietly, firmly, with fire in his eyes: 

“Don't you dare fuck with me. I know what you're implying. And I'm telling you right now to shut your goddamn mouth. Because I won't let that happen. I was gonna spend the night away from my dog, but you know what, fuck it. I'm gonna go home. And be with my child. Who, by the way, gets the Sun card every time, in case you forgot.” 

“Remember the lesson, Ari.” 

Ari leaned in closer to the guide's face. 

“I said, shut the fuck up.” 

“Five minutes.” 

Ari got up. Walked off while yelling at the bartender, 

“I don't want a fucking cosmo! Get me whatever alcohol is in that shit and put it on the rocks!” 

“Actually, we are gonna break now.” 

The group leader announced it as he and the other guides approached Ari's guide. They huddled in a circle, making eye contact with Ari, who had just yelled 

“Keep them coming!” 

at the bartender after downing shot after shot. 

“Hey!” 

The group leader, who looked like a war hero out of Troy, approached Ari. 

“Your behavior has become disruptive, and you disrespected your guide.” 

Ari rolled his eyes. 

“He was pissing me off.” 

He took a shot. Then grabbed another one from the bar top. 

“We don't serve shots,” 

the group leader said to the bartender. The bartender nodded and apologized. Ari laughed. 

“And now you are too.” 

He said it as he took his last shot. The guide glared at Ari and said, loudly and firmly, 

“Your behavior is unacceptable. You are being dismissed.” 

“What? Why can't I just be assigned to someone else?” 

“Leave now.” 

Ari protested. 

“Security!” 

The group leader looked over toward the double doors while pointing at Ari. Ari became startled, just now realizing there had been two bodyguards standing there the whole time, now approaching him swiftly. 

“What the fuck?” 

The bodyguards came close. 

“Let's go!” 

they shouted at him. 

He immediately put his arms up. 

“Don't touch me. I'm going. I'm going. This is so unfair! This isn't right! I Never Even Got To The Last Lifetime!!!” 

Ari screamed it out as he left through the double doors. You could hear laughter in the room. 

“Fuck you all!” 

The double doors shut behind him. The bodyguards commanded him to return to the first floor. Ari took the stairs. Then sat on the last step. 

Ari looked at his phone. The Furbo camera showed it was offline. Ari took a deep breath of relief as he realized his ex was now at their co-owned home, which meant Rosie was no longer alone. 

“At least Rosie's okay now.” 

Ari muttered it to himself while texting his ex back as they discussed co-parenting arrangements. She'd come to pick Rosie up. 

Oh shit. I can't go home now. She might still be there. 

His ex had packed a bag and left after their confrontation earlier in the month. She'd been meaning to return for her things and spend some time in the house. Tonight, apparently, was the night. 

The hotel he was at was booked out. His dad lived out in the suburbs, and driving was out of the question. The shots were catching up with him; his stomach turned. 

Hmm. I'm hungry. Maybe I can text my brothers. 

Ari's brothers lived downtown, just a mile away from each other. Whenever Ari was in town, it was usually to see them, or to go to random group get-togethers like the one he'd just been kicked out of. 

While he waited for a reply, Ari drifted toward the hotel entrance and checked his social media. The group had already blocked him. 

Exiled again. He could hear how he sounded, making himself the victim. He'd spent the evening thinking of his ex as evil. Now he wondered what she'd say about him. 

Maybe he should drown himself in a river and call it an exorcism. Or a baptism. Whatever. The thought brought him back to the guide's question: even with no reason to keep going, would he? 

Perhaps he was already living out the answer... Then another thought came. 

“Or maybe his whole life goes by just avoiding it.” 

His phone lit up. One of his brothers was around. 

“Badass.” 

Ari said it aloud to himself. 

“Panda Express?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

Panda Express 

“Gosh, the city is disgusting. Can we not eat here?” 

Ari said it while looking at a homeless man who'd just walked in smelling like piss, and another homeless man standing outside, staring directly through the window at a woman next to Ari in line, while jerking himself off. 

His brother looked over. 

“Let's head to my place.” 

At the Brother's Place 

“Gosh, the city looks much better from up here.” 

They stood over the balcony of a high-rise, eating fried rice with orange chicken. Some jokes here and there. His brother got serious. 

“So how are you doing, man?” 

“I'm chill.” 

“Yeah? I get it. What made you come to the city today?” 

Ari just stared back with a blank face, not sure how to answer a question that might embarrass him in front of his brother. 

“My ex is at the house.” 

“Is that why you were at the hotel?” 

“Well, there was an event going on. It usually runs late, so I asked to see if she could pick Rosie up. I don't wanna sleep in an empty house, so yeah, I'm probably going to end up booking a room.” 

“Well, you can stay here if you want.” 

“No thanks, man.” 

“Are you going to hook up with someone?” 

“What? No! Of course not. You know I'm not like that.” 

“I know. But you just came from a hotel, and you're drunk, and you don't wanna go home. And you're going through a bad breakup.” 

“It's not what it looks like.” 

Ari said it without even knowing what it looked like. 

“I wasn't even drinking. I just had a couple shots at the end of the night.” 

“What was the event you were at?” 

“What?” 

“You mentioned there was an event.” 

“Oh, yeah. It was like, for work or something.” 

“Well, which is it?” 

“What?” 

“Was it for work, or was it for something?” 

Ari stared blankly. 

“Bro, I'm not even a good liar sober. I can't lie to you while I'm drunk.” 

They both laughed. 

“Why would you have to lie about that?” 

“Because the last time I tried talking about it, I got crucified for it.” 

“Damn. That bad?” 

Ari laughed. 

“It's really not.” 

His brother lit a cigarette. Offered one to Ari. 

“The answer will always be no, man.” 

His brother winked at him and leaned back, cigarette in hand. 

“Then tell me about it.” 

Ari continued. 

“Well, at first I went for work, because it was very body-based kinds of therapies. Breath work, stretching, Pilates, things like that.” 

His brother nodded, exhaling smoke away from Ari. 

“Then, every now and then, there's these kinds of events based on things I've never heard about.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like, you know. Spiritual stuff.” 

“What kind of spiritual stuff?” 

“Like, you know. Tarot card readings. Crystal bed light therapies. Past life processing. Shit like that.” 

His brother gave a confused look. 

“Anyway, it doesn't matter. I got kicked out.” 

“Why? What happened?” 

His brother took another puff. 

“My dumb ass got triggered by the dumbest shit ever.” 

“I'm listening.” 

“Basically, I went to see this past life reader the other day, and then today we came as a group, and we were all talking about it. I got through the first lifetime just fine, but then when I got to the second one, I don't know. I just couldn't relate to it. And they were basically trying to convince me that it was my lifetime, when it isn't.” 

“What the fuck, man.” 

“I know! That's what I'm saying. Look, I don't know if it's the alcohol talking, but—” 

“Yeah, I'm sure it is.” 

“Yeah. Forget it.” 

The brother took a deep breath. 

“Look. Since I'm not just your brother, I'm your best friend, I'm gonna try to listen, even if all this shit is over my head.” 

Ari nodded. 

“What was the lifetime about, and what exactly was it they were trying to convince you of?” 

“That's the thing. It wasn't even about me. I don't know why I got so mad. You know what? I think. I think that's just it.” 

Ari stammered, and drunkenly started having a conversation with himself out loud. 

“I think the therapist in me now is like, well, then why'd you get so triggered? And I'm like, I don't actually know. Then the therapist in me is like, well, you know, the body does keep score. Oh shit!” 

Ari's eyes went wide, as if he'd just had a revelation. 

“So then, maybe, maybe, just maybe, this was my lifetime after all?” 

Ari looked up, seemingly asking his brother. His brother, blankly staring at Ari, wasn't sure how to respond, so he just shrugged. Eyes staring intently, then squinting at Ari, really trying to follow along. 

“Basically, I was a chicken in the past lifetime—” 

“I'm sorry. I can't do this, man.” 

His brother got up. 

“What? Why not?” 

His brother, standing just above Ari now, pointing at him with cigarette in hand, looking down at him, yelled, 

“Because you just said you were a fucking chicken in the last lifetime, man!” 

“No! I said I was a fucking chick. A woman. A mom, man!” 

“A mom-man? Come on. You know how I feel about the trans.” 

“No! Damn, man! A woo-man. Like a womb-an.” 

Ari said it out loud while gesturing toward his belly. 

“A... a woman?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Oh. Oh, okay. You got me fucked up!” 

The brother sat back down. 

“So what you're saying is, you're a man in this life, and they're saying you were a woman in your other one?” 

“Yeah, man!” 

“Oh. Okay. It's still fucked up, but okay. Whatever. Keep going.” 

“Look, I was a fucking mom. I was a parent, is the point. Because apparently, there's no body or gender. It's all soul shit.” 

His brother nodded. Ari continued. 

“So I was a parent, and apparently I had a son, and in that lifetime I had no one else. Apparently the other parent was dead, and all this kid had left was me, and I couldn't even fucking be there for him.” 

Ari didn't notice, but his brother asked in a serious, stern voice, 

“What do you mean? What happened?” 

“I'm about to tell you, man. I know it's exciting. You're trying to get ahead of it. So what happened was—” 

Ari's brother stiffened. Agitated by Ari's presence all of a sudden. But Ari, nonchalantly, without noticing anything, continued the story. 

“My boy was playing outside. I was like, are you sure it was a boy? She was like, yeah. I'm like, are you sure it's not a girl? She was like, yeah. Anyway, somehow we got to talking about the Sun card in the tarot deck, because the Sun card kept coming up for Rosie, which, by the way, means the happiest card in the entire deck!” 

Ari said it excitedly, then paused while staring at his brother, almost hoping for him to match his level of excitement. His brother, noticing the pause and realizing Ari was waiting for him to answer, replied, 

“I don't give a shit about that. What happened to the boy?” 

“Oh, right. The boy. The reader said that there was a boy. And that the boy ends up playing outside in the sun. It was a sunny day.” 

He said it while nodding at his brother. His brother nodded back. 

“And hey, dude, I learned something cool. Did you know that in tarot, the Sun card is—” 

“Yeah, yeah. The happiest fucking card in the deck. I got it. Keep going.” 

“Shit, man. You really like the story.” 

His brother, now increasingly agitated, said, 

“Fuck you, Ari.” 

Ari laughed and continued, without any sense of social intelligence. 

“Alright, so what happens is, the boy is playing outside. In the sun.” 

Ari paused again while regaining his composure. The brother was about to get up again, but Ari continued. 

“I look away. I look back, because apparently I'm the mom in this situation, even though I'm not. And then what happens is, I don't see him anymore. I run out the door. Can't see him anywhere, man. Now it gets really fucking sad. I keep running and running, and now I see, like, half of him. Like, his hands, fading out of my sight, you know. So anyway, I can't swim. And that's probably the only fucking thing I can relate to in that past lifetime, if it's even mine. Never learned how to swim. So what happens is, she jumps in the water anyway. Like a maternal instinct or whatever.” 

“Oh my god, and this was the craziest part, dude. I swear to god, you had to be there. Like, when I was getting this reading done in real time, the fucking reader left me hanging, man. She literally says, the boy was drowning, I didn't know how to swim, I jump in the river anyway, I drowned with him. Or, she said, I died with him.” 

Silence. His brother got teary-eyed. 

“And here's the most fucked up part. Then she says, just not that day.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Exactly. That's what I said. Like, she saves that part. Leaves me on a cliffhanger. She tells me that basically the mother could never really go on living. She basically died with him that day, in the sense that she could never stop grieving her child. Never really learned how else to live without him.” 

“I get that part, right? Like, how does anyone go on living after that? Go on living without their child?” 

“Yeah. I'm not sure I have the answer to that.” 

His brother replied with tears in his eyes. Ari continued. 

“That's what she said!” 

Ari leapt out of the chair as if he were reliving a déjà vu moment. 

“and then she went on this whole, like, spiel about how shaken she was by the story, because it was something on some level she could actually relate to as well. But we don't have to get into it. Not my story to tell.” 

His brother remained silent. 

Ari finally looked at his brother. Tears in his eyes. His face held still. He'd been trying to finish the story without noticing who he was telling it to. 

“Shit, man. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, man. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“It's okay. Just finish the story.” 

“Look, I don't even know if I can. I can't believe I just said all that.” 

“Yes, you can. It's not the same. Her boy isn't even alive...” 

“I'm so sorry. That was fucked up, man.” 

“Ari, just finish the story, man. Just give me that.” 

“Alright. Um. Basically, everyone calls her hysterical, because she tries to end her life in the same way her boy had died. She ends up living to be a very old lady, but ends up getting locked up in an asylum, like some psych ward or something, because she was suicidal.” 

“That's sad...” 

“Really fucking sad... and I'm so sorry I didn't put that together before...” 

“Well, why'd you get so mad?” 

“That's the thing. It seems like everybody can relate to this except for me. Yet this guy was, like, talking to me like it was about to happen. I was like, bro, what the fuck, man. Maybe he could relate to it as well, in the same way you can, in the same way my reader can.” 

“I don't know why I let it get to my head. But I shouldn't have yelled at him the way I did. We had such a great time an hour before that. I mean, we don't talk often, but he's always been good to me. Kind. Gentle. Somehow puts up with me even when I'm an asshole.” 

“He knew I was going through a rough time, and it was really nice being able to talk to him. And I just took that and disrespected the shit out of it. There's no way he'd want to see me again.” 

“Swear to god, man. Sometimes I feel like I'm becoming Dad. I know. I don't know, like, how to control myself when I get mad like that. I didn't hit anybody, and I'm pretty sure I just said the F word once, which, you know, was a big deal for me.” 

“But I made a fucking scene, and now I look like a monster, which is exactly how my ex would describe me... But I swear I never talk to her or any women like that. But maybe that's why I'm like this... Maybe my ex pissed me off so much I would take it out like this on everyone but her!?” 

“Take it from me, man, you don't wanna know what happens when you take it out on your girl. She ends up hurt, and you end up in prison...” 

he said as he took another inhale. 

Ari got uncomfortable. The idea of raising a hand to any woman after everything that had happened to his mother? He couldn't make sense of how his brothers could get like that. But then again, was he really any better? 

Did he hide behind the guise of a “nice, kind therapist” guy when it was just a matter of time before his lips sunk ships that came to help him? 

Ari stuffed his mouth with orange chicken as he began feeling sober. 

He looked up at his brother. 

“You've changed. Just like Dad has. But even more. Even better.” 

He took another bite. 

“Yeah, whatever,” 

his brother said nonchalantly. 

“So what did he say that pissed you off so bad?” 

“I don't remember...” 

Ari took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to recall the night. 

“I think he implied that something bad was gonna happen to Rosie...” 

His brother's eyebrows went up. 

“THAT'S what pissed you off?” 

Ari half laughed, nervously. 

“Yeah... I don't know...” 

“Did he say what was going to happen to her?” 

“No. You know, now that I think about it... I don't think he said much about anything at all other than just that lifetime and how I need to learn to live or something like that.” 

His brother widened his eyes and looked away, trying not to wear an expression that said “WTF.” 

“Ari, honestly, this is kind of a funny story...” 

Ari rolled his eyes. 

“I knew you'd make fun of me.” 

“No, you just blew up at a guy over some shitty lifetime that you don't even remember having...” 

“I mean, you're obviously grieving...” 

his brother said gently. 

“I hate to ruin this, but I can't miss this moment. I finally have the opportunity.” 

“What's that?” 

“Do you think it's time you go to therapy?” 

They both laughed. 

“Fuck you man!” 

Ari said back. 

“Damn, remind me never to say that to you again.” 

“Feels like shit, doesn't it?” 

“Yes... Sorry.” 

“God, I hate that I keep apologizing to you. To everybody...” 

Ari muttered to himself. 

“Honestly, that guy was the closest thing to a therapist. He goes by guidance counselor.” 

Ari laughed. 

“That counts,” 

his brother said with a knowing look. 

“Yeah, and you know what? That guy was good. And he was older. He didn't deserve that. I disrespected an elder, man...” 

“I got in Mr. Feeney's face, man.” 

They both laughed. 

“How do you do Mr. Feeney like that!?” 

“Felt like the devil, man. You know, I kind of felt like that every time I'd get mad at my ex. Even though I think I was different, maybe for her it was no less.” 

“Yeah, but didn't you say something about reactive anger or abuse or misuse the other day?” 

“Yeah, man.” 

“So you know it's not the same.” 

“I know.” 

“Look, we both had a dad who would get mad and lose control. And I am in no position to judge you for doing that today. You seem sobered up.” 

“What? I mean— yeah. I think I am.” 

“Alright, then go find out.” 

“Go find out what?” 

“If he'd want to see you again.” 

“What the fuck. That's hilarious. I got kicked out, man. No way they're gonna let me back in.” 

“You don't know that. Unless you go find out. But only if you're sober. Otherwise you're gonna get kicked out again and repeat this, and I can't promise I'll be here to listen to this shit again.” 

They both laughed. Ari looked over in the direction of the building, just a couple blocks away. 

“Do you think it's over by now?” 

“No. Those things usually end real late. Like, a thirty-minute break in between sessions, and we were about to go to the last lifetime, so their break is probably wrapping up in a bit.” 

“Sounds like now would be the time. Look. Just ask if you can apologize to the guy. And then, actually, you know. Treat him right.” 

“And if I'm not allowed? If it's too late?” 

“It's never too late to do the right thing. But it could be too late for them to receive it. To accept it. To give you another chance. And that's different. So what are you really asking?” 

“I'm not sure what you mean.” 

“Are you asking, what if I do the right thing, and I do it because it's the right thing to do, and it's the least I could do? Or are you asking, what if I do the right thing, and it makes things worse for me, and I come out of it feeling worse than I did before? You see the difference, right?” 

Ari nodded. 

“Yeah. The first one is making it about doing right by them. And the second is making it about me. Selfishly.” 

“Yeah. And take it from me, man. If there's anyone who knows anything about the second one, I promise you, there is no way you can feel worse about doing the right thing, even if it's received wrong. Because at the end of the day, you go to sleep with a clear conscience. Because even though you can't change what you just did and how you reacted, you can regret it. And you can learn from it. And you can do right by him moving forward. And you better make sure of it.” 

He lit another cigarette. 

“Sure you're not older than me?” 

The brother laughed. 

“It's never been about age, man. But life experience. And you've had more than your fair share of the rough and tough. So you know what I'm talking about. Don't ice everyone else out just because that's what's happening after your breakup. Don't take it out on others. Don't make people who got nothing to do with your situation feel bad. And especially not the ones who have only ever left you feeling good about yourself. About your life. About anything. Alright?” 

Ari nodded. 

“Alright.” 

The brother said it while standing up. 

“Now get the fuck out of here before I kick you out.” 

Ari laughed, got up, and punched playfully at his brother's shoulder. They both laughed. 

“Fuck you, man.” 

Ari said it back. He approached the door. Grabbed his coat. Turned back to his brother, and added, 

“He would be proud.” 

“What's that?” 

“If he ever found out. That you're the man he can call Dad.” 

His brother laughed. 

“Hm. I doubt it. By now, they probably got to his head. Because anyone that can alienate a parent from their kid for almost a decade must've already brainwashed them.” 

Ari went up to his brother and hugged him quickly. Awkwardly. 

“I love you, man.” 

Ari whispered it to him. His brother's body stiffened, taken aback by the sudden affection and warmth. He nodded back at him. Ari shut the door as he made his exit. 

Ari walked toward the elevator with tears in his eyes. His brother was probably right about what they'd told his son. 

After everything his ex's family had done to keep them apart, his brother had still made room for Ari tonight. Ari thought about his own ex and her family. He wasn't sure what came next, but he felt less alone walking toward it. 

Back at the Hotel 

“Can I help you?” 

“Yeah, I already checked in. I'm just going back up to the lounge. I might not stay there for long, even.” 

“Okay. Go ahead.” 

Ari knocked. The white noise machine outside the lounge covered any answer. He eased open the double doors. No bodyguards. Inside, the group was stretching, and a few people turned to look. 

The group leader stood. Ari's guide raised a hand, and the leader sat back down with the others. 

“Stay present. We're wrapping this up shortly, and then we will proceed with the final discussion.” 

When his guide approached, Ari stepped back into the hallway. The guide followed, letting the doors close behind him. They stood face to face. 

“What is it, Ari?” 

The speech Ari had rehearsed on the walk disappeared. He'd braced for anger. The warmth in the guide's voice left him with no idea how to begin. 

“Whoa. Your energy. I mean. Like.” 

Stumbling on his words. 

“I think this is the closest I've ever been to you. Like, physically. Obviously. Not relationally. Or emotionally. Or whatever.” 

“What brings you back, Ari?” 

Has it always felt like this? The guide's presence overwhelmed him at this distance. Ari stepped back, tried to speak, then took another step. There. Enough room to gather himself. 

“I'm sorry. Your energy. Your presence, I mean. I don't think I ever really— Okay. Um. I came back because— I came back to say I'm sorry. Because I am. Sorry.” 

It had sounded so much better in his head. He pictured having to reenact this for his brother on the phone and refused to let that be how the night ended. 

“Ari, you have an extensive vocabulary. You maintain great composure in moments where most others falter. I'm not offended by your presentation in this moment. I'm flattered. I hope you're sober—” 

“I am.” 

Ari replied quickly. 

“But that will not suffice. When your apology matches the depth and breadth of your assault, only then can we actually have a conversation.” 

“Wait, I'm not sure what you mean. Depth and breadth?” 

“Earlier this evening, you exuded passion. You demonstrated assertiveness. You postured confidence. Your message and demeanor toward me came with a level of energy that left an imprint on me. It only makes sense, then, for corrective repair to occur that seeks to leave a similar imprint. But this time, a memory of you that might actually be worth remembering.” 

“Wait. So, like, my last words to you? That you'll remember me by? Is that what's become of us? Do I now only get to be a memory in your mind?” 

“Ari, why are you here?” 

“Sir, I came to apologize.” 

“Yes. But why?” 

“Because I felt bad for the way I talked to you earlier.” 

“Because you felt bad? So you came to apologize to no longer feel bad?” 

“I came to apologize because I felt bad for the way I treated you, and you didn't deserve that.” 

“And how does it make you feel, knowing that you treated someone exactly the way they never deserved to be treated?” 

“Terrible. Horrible. Guilty. Bad. Sad. Fuck. I'm mad at myself.” 

“And?” 

“And shit like that.” 

“Anything else, Ari?” 

“And I'm sorry.” 

“Okay. I've heard your apology. Do you have any questions for me before you leave, Ari?” 

“Do you accept my apology?” 

“See, that's the thing, Ari. Your apology. It's still about you and your feelings.” 

“I don't think I've processed this. And I think, you know, naming my feelings is part of that process.” 

“Ari, did you come here to process your hurt feelings with the person you hurt directly?” 

“No. Not at all, sir.” 

“Then it sounds like you have work to do. And until you do that work, I have no desire to hear an apology.” 

“Sir, I will take that time to process this separately. But I gotta be honest, I'm not sure what you're telling me.” 

“Then let me spell it out directly.” 

“Please.” 

“Ari, just now, I asked about your feelings, and then asked if you had any questions for me. At what point are you going to consider the way it made me feel?” 

“How do I consider your feelings when I don't even know how you feel?” 

“It's not rocket science, Ari. The way you came at me. How do you reckon I'd feel after you came at me like that?” 

“Awful.” 

“Then there's that. But is that all there is?” 

“I don't know.” 

“Then care enough to know. Care enough to ask.” 

“Holy shit. I think I get it. I didn't care enough to ask. Wait. I literally know how that feels. Shit. Sorry. I'm not trying to make this about me or my feelings, even though that's what it sounds like. You're absolutely right, and I think I'm getting it. And I don't think it's fair that you're the one helping me get it, since you're the one I hurt. But I do care, sir. What gives me the right to ask about your feelings after all that?” 

“Whatever gave you the right in the first place to talk to me like that?” 

Ari shook his head while looking down. 

“I have no idea, sir. It wasn't right. I don't think I had the right to do that.” 

“It's convenient, isn't it? People don't hesitate to take action that ruptures connection upon impulse. But when it comes to taking reparative action upon self-reflection, all of a sudden they need to have a right to make that kind of connection?” 

Ari took a deep breath. 

“See, this is what I mean, sir. I don't know exactly what it is. I just know, in the few times I've gotten to know you, there's really no one like you. I've really learned a lot from you. And, you know, we had a great talk earlier, and we were talking about, like, the mentorship and stuff.” 

“And I don't know if I, like, blew it with you. I— I just want you to know that the things you're saying to me are really making a difference, in a way I don't think I'm familiar with. But I didn't show up today just for myself. I know the risk of coming back again, or staring you in the face and having to be the kind of person I want so badly to be, but never really thought it possible, based on not having an example.” 

“It's not an excuse. It's an explanation. And I know it will not suffice. Which is why, um, I won't ever treat you like that again, man. I know it's not right. I know you deserve better. And I'm sorry that I made a scene and everything. I want to know, if it's not too late, I want to know how I made you feel.” 

“Why do you ask, Ari?” 

“Because I want to know how you feel.” 

“Why do you want to know how I feel, Ari?” 

“Because the healing is in the feeling. The harm is there, too. And if I hurt your feelings, then I must take accountability by understanding what that harm looked like. How it impacted you. I couldn't realize it at the time, when I blew up at you. What I'm saying is, if I genuinely hurt you, and god, I'm sorry if I did, then know that I genuinely want to do my part in helping to repair the harm that I did.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because I care.” 

“Care about what?” 

“Your feelings. My actions. And how they impacted you. I mean, no homo or anything, I just— fuck, I know we're not supposed to say that anymore. But basically, what I'm trying to say is, I care about you like Cory Matthews cares about Mr. Feeney in Boy Meets World.” 

“I don't understand that reference, Ari.” 

“Exactly. Because you're Mr. Feeney years old.” 

“I don't think that's helping, Ari.” 

“You're right. Okay. I care because— I just do. You know, for the same reason you do. You obviously care too, because somehow you're still out here giving me a chance. Hearing me out. When you literally have no reason to. I'm sorry I hurt you. If I did.” 

“Of course you did. I'm not afraid to say you hurt my feelings, Ari. I'm not afraid to look soft in front of people who refuse to be the very thing they need most. I'm okay with losing face with others, as long as I don't turn away from the parts of myself everyone else turned away from.” 

“Because if I denied it, toughened up, manned up, whatever you want to call it, and I said, 'You didn't hurt my feelings, fuck you for thinking you could,' all that does is deny the human in me. Deny me the right to be human. To be a man. Gives the impression that I'm made of steel, like a machine that can take anything.” 

“You call that strength, when all it does is build self-hatred. And somehow it allows the very person doing the harm to get away with it. Because if you're not hurt, then they've got no guilt. They've got no reason to stop. They'll do it again, and the pattern repeats itself. Next thing you know, it's the women that get murdered.” 

“The children that lose the parent. Violence in men, no matter the color or creed. We need to master masculinity in a way that doesn't kill more people, or leave them for dead, to where they become a shell of a self.” 

“I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. And I know what that requires of me. To show up and do things differently. And I'm not perfect. But if there's any reason I can at least try to be even just a little bit better. A little more like you. A little less like me—” 

“Stop right there. That wasn't you. That was what you learned. And that is what you must unlearn. Otherwise, it will become you.” 

Ari nodded. 

“You were saying.” 

“I want to be better. I don't want to ice out the ones whose presence warms my heart, after keeping a whole world close to me that left me out in the cold, that I loved with my whole heart. I don't want to hurt the people who have done me no harm while continuing to enable the ones who do. That's not me living in my truth. And lately, that's all I feel called to do.” 

“So what are you gonna do?” 

“Well, sir. I'm gonna start by doing right by you. If you choose to leave me as a memory, then I will have no choice but to simply take that as a lesson I have learned the hard way.” 

“What lesson is that?” 

“What happens to good people when you treat them bad. They disappear from your life. I don't seem to have a lot of good people left in mine. So I don't think I could ever make that same mistake again. At least not in this life.” 

“Hm.” 

The guide listened intently. 

“And sir, if you choose to forgive me, and even more, let me back in— I don't care about the group, or the events. Honestly, I wasn't even going to come today. But if you choose to let me back into your life, where we can talk like this, I promise you I will work hard to regain your sense of safety and trust.” 

“I don't trust promises. I trust patterns.” 

The guide held his gaze, searching one eye, then the other. Ari stayed with him and stepped closer. 

“You've been there for me, man. Like my north star. When I was lost. And I'm not gonna pretend I know my way now, because we both know I don't. And I'm not looking to you to do my part. Not looking to you to no longer be lost. I feel as though I have a lot to learn from you. And I feel as if I understand that now in a way I didn't before. And I know what that costs me now. And I deeply regret that I had to learn it this way. In a way that hurts you. In a way that cost me you.” 

The guide gently nodded. 

“As you pointed out earlier, I come from a generation much older, where the only feeling a man can have is anger. And do you know what we call the man who can't control the only feeling they're allowed to have?” 

Ari shook his head. 

“A fucking psychopath. And with your generation, where the women have to step up and be the man, the only feeling they also get to have is anger. And when they get mad, well, you know what my people call them. Hysterical. What is it your people call them?” 

“Crazy.” 

“Yeah. That.” 

“Sir, I can't confirm it, but just from the last couple weeks, from what I've been hearing directly from my ex, I fear I'm being called both those things right now. And that's not easy for me to admit. The fear. I think I'm starting to believe it.” 

“Well, don't you dare do that. You can lose everybody and rise higher than ever before. But if you lose yourself and have everybody, you're done for. Don't let them get to your head if they never even appreciated your heart.” 

“I'm sorry I hurt your heart.” 

“Fuck that. That thing died a long time ago. When my own child died, and the love of my life with her.” 

Ari looked up at his guide with wide eyes. 

“Yes, you hurt my feelings. And those hurt feelings got to my thoughts, and those thoughts messed with my head. And that's the place I most respect. Even more, you touched my soul in the first hour. And you stomped on it in the next. That's a level of whiplash I do not put up with.” 

“I understand that, sir. I will do better.” 

“You do your damn best.” 

“Yes.” 

“Not expecting perfection. I'm expecting progress.” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Go right ahead.” 

“Why?” 

“Say more, Ari.” 

“Why are you even giving me another chance after everything I did?” 

“I never said I am, Ari. I said you will have to earn it. But yes, I'm giving you the opportunity to earn it. Because I don't turn anyone away from the truth. And when you can see the truth of what you've done, show up like a man, knowing very well you could have again been kicked out— that's someone setting their ego and pride aside. And I respect any person who can do that.” 

Ari smiled. Then looked down. 

“But Ari.” 

Still smiling, Ari looked back up at him. 

“Allow me to make myself abundantly clear. You ever talk to me like that again, you will wish you didn't.” 

Ari instantly raised his eyebrows with fear. Stuttered. Paused. Then tried again. 

“Sir, I think I know now what you mean by whiplash.” 

“Doesn't feel good, does it?” 

“I'd rather feel anything else. God, I'm sorry that's how it felt. And all you did was just say one sentence in this one moment. Whereas I spent the whole hour laughing and talking with you, and then the next hour screaming in your face the way I did. It won't happen again. I mean, not with you, at least. I can say that directly. But there's some people in there that piss me off. And I heard them laughing at me.” 

“Ari, the last thing you said as you were being escorted out of this place was that you never got to the last lifetime!” 

They both laughed. 

“Okay, I gotta admit, that was kind of hilarious.” 

“You're a funny guy. You've gotta learn to laugh at yourself from time to time.” 

“Fair enough. Do we still have time?” 

“Technically, not a whole lot left. But what the hell really even is time?” 

Ari smiled. 

“Well, I don't want to keep you. So maybe some other time, then?” 

“Ari, I could use a good bedtime story before my old ass calls it a night. And your lifetime stories have been wild. Or woke. What is it, that saying—” 

“Don't. Please, for your own sake. Just don't.” 

“Okay. I won't.” 

“Good. I won't either, because I'm also old.” 

“Old is gold. Now get your ass in here and tell me about your last lifetime.” 

Ari laughed, then entered with his guide, looked at the bar, and remarked, 

“Fine. But only if I can get a cosmo.” 

“Good joke. Also, they're closed. And even if they weren't, you'd have been cut off.” 

Ari grabbed the water bottle he'd just picked up from the corner store. 

“Then water it is.” 

He gestured “cheers” with the bottle and took a sip as they made their way to the chairs and table. 

“Perhaps that's best.” 

✦[Mementos](https://northstar128.substack.com/s/te-sr-mementos)