David Senra

This is what makes his story so fascinating.

He finally confronts and then fixes this.

So he gets to his house in California.

I immediately start thinking about leaving.

Where am I going to go?

Anywhere, as long as it's away from this home that seems to be asking me for something I find so disturbing I cannot submit or surrender to.

It wants me to stay.

And I don't stay.

I don't stay for this house.

I don't stay for anyone.

That's for everyone else.

I go.

The only thing that stops me is knowing that if I get in the car and make that long trip back east, once my toes tickle the Atlantic, I'd be driven to turn around and return here in a never-ending cycle of wheel-spinning madness.

I am existentially spent, my emotional well of tricks dry.

There is no tour to hide behind, no music to save me.

I'm face up against the wall I've been inching towards for a long time.

I call John Landau.

Remember how I told you how important it was to find that person in his life?

I've broached these subjects in several long conversations with John in the past.

He gets it.