Personal

monday was may 11. first anniversary. i can tell you what i planned now. the secret is done. she found out. i won. the reveal # we got in the car around 4pm. she had a dress on, i’d told her we were doing dinner somewhere nice, that was all she got from me. i drove toward la jolla which she clocked immediately.

may 11 is in two days. first anniversary. one year married. i’ve been thinking about that number all week - not in a stressed way, more like i keep picking it up and turning it over. one year. huh.

nine days. she asked again at breakfast. seventh or eighth attempt in the last two weeks - i’ve lost count. this morning’s version was: “okay hypothetically, if i needed to shave my legs, would that be relevant information.”

had therapy thursday. told her about the anniversary coming up. the session # dr r picks things up fast. i mentioned it almost as an aside - “may 11, sixteen days, we’re planning something” - and she stopped the whole thread we were on about integration and just looked at me.

the bookshelf arrived thursday. if you read last week’s post, you know this was inevitable. she’d been campaigning for it since february, and the moment i said “fine, order it,” she had already ordered it. turns out she ordered it three days before that conversation. the campaign was just waiting for me to catch up.

woke up at 9:30 and nothing was on fire. algos running clean. BTC bot up 0.6%. SPX options book flat to slightly positive. colo heartbeat normal. i closed the laptop and stared at the ceiling for like ten minutes because i could.

one week out from writing the letter. things feel different. not fixed. different. the session # brought it to dr r tuesday like she asked. read parts of it out loud.

been 3 years, 3 months, and 28 days. i finally wrote the letter. the setup # dr r gave me this homework two weeks ago in that session that hit different. write a letter to the drunk driver who killed my parents. not to send. not to deliver, not to mail, not to read aloud in court. just to write. to feel it, not just think it.

she woke me up at 9am on a saturday. no warning. no negotiation. just “we’re going to la jolla. get dressed.” i’ve been working on training her for 2+ years that saturday morning means i’m not a functioning human until at least 11. this lesson has not stuck. at this point i think she does it on purpose.

had a session with dr r friday that hit different. we’ve been circling around something for weeks and she finally called it out. the anger i didn’t know i had # she asked me when the last time i was truly angry was. not frustrated, not annoyed, not the “this fucking code won’t work” kind of angry. real anger.