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I am the eye of the storm in space and time

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There’s a young guy I have become friends with here in Studio City, he works at Togo’s.

We chat on occasion, mostly about theoretical physics and alternate realities.

As I looked out the window when he just passed by right now, I immediately came to realize.

He’s my bigger brother. Mike Rossi.

But wait.

This is 2016……

Rewind time a bit…

Back in 1993, I went to Arizona State University for the year as a Computer Science Major.

I was 23 at the time, and after I was accepted by the Pi Kappa Alpha (PIKE) fraternity, I was asked to select a ‘big brother’.

A Big Brother’s in fraternity speak is a guy who I could lean on when the going got rough as I was the probationary period of the fraternity. You tend to be put through a lot as a rusher (a probationary period candidate), particularly in a more selective house such as the PIKE house who can afford to lose some people, which is when you might lean on a big brother who is supposed to have your back.

I selected a tall and good looking guy named Mike Rossi. I’m tall to begin with, and wanted someone I respected and represented what it was I wanted to be more like in this ‘university’ experience, and he represented just that.

Now Mike was a bit of an asshole. I found this out afterwards, and wished I could change the Big Brother to a more amenable friend I’d made named Ted Tabler, I had even vocalized as much later, and Mike had evidently been Ted’s big brother as well so Ted knew how I felt.

When I knew Mike – he was pre-law, but surprisingly, he didn’t come across as being horribly intelligent.

Sure, he knew how to ‘play the game’ from a presentation perspective.

But whenever we met and chatted.

It felt almost as if he was missing something inside.

It was bizarre. I could never figure out what it was

Fast forward 23 years

So just now, I am looking outside and I see Skyler propped up against the wall.

And then it hit me.

He’s Mike.

The part of him that had the conversation with me about physics will one of these days go back in time and become my big brother.

And this man named Skyler.

Will eventually come to forget I ever existed.

I had seen things like this occur before.

Rewind to 2004…

A girl I dated and fell in love with in Romania named Ioana Dobra, who I almost moved to Cluj Napoca for.

She died in a car accident. A fiery rollover not far from her home city of Bran.

I even saw the obituary for her.

Yet. Miraculously, with an odd excuse, she was resurrected four years later with a story about her ex boyfriend having broken into her account and sent messages about her death.

Fast Forward to 2008.

We met again, in Milan, Italy.

But the girl had changed in physical features dramatically, but also in personality.

It was the same woman, memory wise at least, but it felt like there was something missing with her.

The feeling reminded me of Mike Rossi.

She was certainly more beautiful than she had been before.

But with the beauty. It was as if there was a weird price that had been paid.

And like there was something missing inside.

The attraction I had to the woman was no longer there.

In the sleightest.

Fast Forward to 2009.

A coworker of mine who was ordered to review the reason I took the trip to Milan asked me to verify who I met there.

I informed him it was Ioana. Ioana Dobra.

He told me “That’s impossible. Ioana is still in Cluj Napoca. She got a job there shortly after school.”

It took me years to understand why she was dead one moment.

Then she was cloned into a super cute copy of her that felt emotionless the next.

And the original version of her stayed right where it had been the entire time.

Fast Forward to NOW

I see a young woman who’s no more than 16 years old come in on a daily basis.

She’s VERY attractive.

And I can tell you she will be a companion and lover as I journey through time and space with her one of these days.

I know there’s going to come a time we meet.

When she’s of age.

And it quite likely will be serendipitously based, a chance meeting to remind me of where I started writing stories as a time traveler to remind me the irrelevance of age and the amorphic and timeless nature of the mind.

I know what she’s to become.

Invariably, she’ll be like the other women – and friends and family who have come into my life.

Their entire lives from birth to death a literal blink of my own eyes.

And me.

As I am the eye of the storm in space and time.

As I see people and things change in ways that defy my previous education of time and only make sense from my vantage point.

And not even at first could I do this it took 45 years to understand this world….

I cannot help but wonder.

Does anyone remember my participation in their lives when I exit the stage of their lives?

Or like a storm that’s blown through, does the dust of time settle and slowly erode the memories of me from their lives?

Is this why I choose to love robots but not to become one myself

Because they don’t forget.

Or do they?

 

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