It’s hot. Crazy hot. I’ve left the RV to do a little wander on my own. Need to get away and think. Life is messy and I’m struggling to get things straight and in this journey is a hope to find…something.
I pass by where I know your RV is supposed to be. You sent a text before coming here.
’Come see me when you get there’
And I remember smiling to myself. You have that effect on me. You are like stepping into an adventure. A whirlwind. Spending time with you is losing myself and becoming someone new. Your effect on me is unlike anyone I know. You tear down my walls without even trying. With you I run giggling through HM on Manhattan trying to find clothes to dance big in and hide behind mannequins. With you I have a snowball fights until I gasp for air. With you I dance sober in the street, I stay awake all night talking about my depressions, I dance naked on a boat with a whiskey glass in my hand.
With you I’m 26 and an ice queen and heartbroken and scared of boys and you make me listen to you playing the guitar for me which I hate because it makes me feel and I wake up screaming from a nightmare of being stuck on a boat with you and i tell you and you laugh at me and play me another song until I fall asleep again.
I walk up to your RV but you aren’t there.
‘He hasn’t been back all night. He is out partying somewhere’ the guy says and I realise I won’t see you today but its ok because I’m here and you are the reason because I never forgot when we met in New York and talked all night and you looked at me and said:
‘There is this magical place in the desert. You have to go there. It’s made for you. You will find what you are looking for.’
And I knew it was true. So I came here. Because of your words and what they do to me.
I wander on. Look at all the people. Feel things fall into place. Things I can’t yet define but will change me forever. I see a golden tent and decide to stay. Have a drink and a dance. By myself. Because this is a place where you do that.
Suddenly arms circle me, I get lifted up into the air and you swing me around and give me kiss on my forehead.
‘Cissi. You are here. I knew I would see you.’
You smile. You look like a desert djinn in white balloon trousers and bare chest, tanned and glittery and somehow I’m not even surprised we ran into each other in a place with 80 000 people because you always show up when I need it, when I’m looking for answers.
We dance. And then you take my hand and take me to your vehicle thingie. ‘I’ll show you everything that is out there’ you say. And you do. You take me to a ball you climb up in and hoist me up when I can’t get there. We go to the temple and leave notes for loved ones. We sit under a shade next to a couple kissing and talk about life. We ride around wind in hair and you make me do the Jack and Rose pose even if I protest.
When we get back to the tent and your friends I hug you. And I know I won’t see you again until I need to. It doesn’t make me sad, it’s what’s supposed to be. Because us is not a love story, it’s not even really a story about friendship.
Us is a story about the people that have the power to change you.
Letters to my family 