“Let me tell you something,” she started and she said something that suddenly clarified everything. Last year, it was an action of committment and this year, it was a moment of clarity, sincere belief and friendship

What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

The following day, I was planning to do a century bike ride so I had invited Joe and his girlfriend out to dinner. Pasta dinner to be exact at Valencia Pizza and Pasta. Earlier in the day, I had been moping about my demise, my agony, what I perceived as self-destruction. I needed comfort from my best friends and I sought Joe.

As our pasta arrived in the restaurant, we chatted about innocuous subjects—the awkwardly 90s-like patrons around us, how I was expected to make balsamic dressing by myself with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, their plans over the holidays, the funny comic Carolyn drew posted on Facebook and the incredibly delicious garlic bread.

And then I described my dilemmas. I drew a picture in the air, waving my hands. I imitated the past conversations—the words said and the words forgotten. I could fear the tear inside me, the stabbing wound…as I continued lamenting.

Joe comforted me with his funny comments—his hilarity that I always appreciated in the midst of disaster.

But then Carolyn stopped Joe. She gave me a long stare across the table. I always had difficulty in connecting with her, always trying my best to connect with my close friend’s girlfriend. “Let me tell you something,” she started. “This is always consistently true: 99% of men are stupid.”

Joe laughed, “I don’t think that I am the 1%.”

I paused for a second, contemplating…swirling the spaghetti around the plain tomato sauce and bits of meatballs.

“Why yes,” I said. “You are so completely correct.”