tfw your heart drops when my name drops 🤗

I know 🙂 and thank you for sharing🥰For the sweetest words that sometimes scare me and make me doubt whether I should thank you for them and/or curiously inquire with you more in the suffocating smog of bruised skepticism.

tfw when my heart stops as I wait for you to arrive at my spot. And tfw when you arrive at our rendezvous, that drop. That damn drop. I recognize it. It arrived again. When you arrived. Again.

I was so excited and happy to see you. It makes me sad to hear that that surprised you. Sad either because it’s a tell you’ve been hurt and are still working through your own issues in your own world. Or sad because it’s a sign you’ll hurt me, that perhaps you built a world of words of us I thought were true, but it isn’t actually real and just a gigantic fragile house of cards easily blown to pieces at the slightest breeze of lived reality meandering through for a visit. And I haven’t had enough consistent data points in my few time lapses spent with you to know which either reigns true. But I know I’ve been down the latter path with another before, and I have no interest in going back there. Or perhaps sad because the latter is actually an entire astral projection of my own (recent) traumas. It’s unclear to me so far which sad reigns.

They say coordinating at Burning Man is impossible. I now understand and see why.

And I also see we’re fully capable of doing the “impossible”🙌

Guiding a Brazilian stranger to her friends and party. I don’t blame her, it is easy to get lost here. Pink Hearts and meeting Halcyon and Halcyon meeting us–me yesterday and you tonight, and us tonight. Neck and shoulder massages on fuzzy fluffy neon hot pink sofas and sneaking colorful squares under tongues for their gels to melt into our minds. I like making you feel good. And I like when you make me feel good. Changing shoes with the necessary sober laser focus to get out of my heels for the long night, and timing the hit time just right. Lying flat down on the dusty ground being sucked into another vortex above us, but below the sky, by the ginormous spinning wheel of fast moving mixed multicolor patterned lights dancing overhead. While always holding your hand. Always holding your hand. I love when you hold my hand, I love when you protect me, I love when you lead me, I love when you show and not just tell me, and I love when you make me feel desired. Playing with the ambre changing color lights with every step/stomp on the ice mirage flooring where the polar bear stands and shines. Dancing and playing like a kid. I’ve always been, and likely always will be/stay, a kid at heart. If you don’t love her, you can’t love me. Growing up is a trap, don’t do it. Protect that inner child with an intensity to be reckoned with, protect her joy. Adult me and child me hugging. Hugging the polar bear. Hugging you hugging the polar bear. Hugging me hugging the polar bear. And the melt.

And the melt of the horizon, and space and time and time and space. Near/far, fast/slow, loud/quiet, bright/dim, I couldn’t tell any of the differences, or felt them all at the same time🤷‍♀️

And somewhere in between time I felt a fight. Over my backpack. Or something. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to fight with you. At all. I hope you didn’t want to fight with me either, but that’s your choice. I just noted mine. And noted.

Then in the precious moments with just us, I saw the planets talking above you while you kept watch for us and over me in deep playa, leaned over me for the sweetest kisses. White and silver and red and blue and green shooting lines dancing so fast to their own patterns on multiple planes in multiple galaxies. How insignificant we are, and yet how significant. After all, we are a part of the universe.

Running to deep playa to avoid the lights and crowd, to just be in the universe of us, in the universe. Tried to find darkness and solitude with you. It felt impossible. The lights kept following us. Everyone had the same idea to deep playa that night.

When Mayan Warrior & Robot Heart united, I felt so overwhelmed by the sea of bicycling people following the union and thought I’d get run over trying to ride in that river of lights and wheels on wheels on wheels. After all I only learned to ride my bike yesterday😅

I couldn’t keep up with you. I kept feeling like I’d lose you in the madness. I kept feeling like I couldn’t avoid hitting someone else. I kept feeling like I couldn’t avoid being hit by someone else. I kept feeling like I was going to get hurt. I had to stop. I felt you wanted to chase. But you stayed and kept me safe anyway. Thank you.

I wish the music that night dropped the same way our hearts did. But it mostly didn’t. Away I go exiting any time I’m not enjoying the sound. And away you go bobbing to anything and everything, way more tolerant than me haha.

Thank goodness for the Pyramids. And Alchemy. I liked the music there better. But I think you’re right, that we left for the Pyramids right at the height of the hit. I felt so close to you then. Melded. Connected. I wish we stood still and embraced those moments frozen in time a bit longer when they existed.

But this one night the desert heat decided to miss us and leave you freezing :(and understandably a bit grumpy😅 The adrenaline of connecting with you must have kept me warm🤷‍♀️Fur coats/jackets and home chases way too far away for the commitment to/from the cycling circular ride path. So into the crowd for refuge we go instead. That should do for now you hope. That pursuit for heat from deep playa to the Pyramids felt like the longest bike ride to me still though. Perhaps because my body was trying to tell me not to leave your embrace yet, and I failed to listen because I wanted you to be comfortable and warm over my own desires at the time. I’m still learning not to put the needs of others above mine. It’s a practice. I’ve generally gotten better at it, but haven’t yet perfected it. I’ve had to heal from so much of this recently. But I’m proud of my progress. In time. Lessons learned and still learning. Tale as old as time.

Inside pyramids making friends with the gorgeous Ukrainian woman with the softest skin so I could get the softest pillow cushion. Helping her get the man, stranger turned helper, to take her where she needed to go next. To help us get to where we needed to go next.

Soft landing. Pillow talk. I feel you feel scared or guarded or weary or cautious. I feel a switch. I tried to have an authentic connected conversation about it, but perhaps it wasn’t the right time for you. And I never want to force a conversation on anyone. So I just note it for me for now. Maybe one day you’ll tell me. Maybe no days you will. It’s your choice. You have your journey and I respect it. I have my journey and I respect it. If/when we have our journey, I’ll respect it too.

I’m glad we found sunrise together. And the music in the last hour was so much better. But maybe our music in the previous hour was echoing Mayan Warriors’ lack of magnetism that one night, just this one night. Or maybe I was too much in my head, or maybe I was too much in yours. There were moments I didn’t expect when I felt a bit insecure, I felt a bit off, I didn’t know how to read you or how you felt at the time. I wish I did take some more time to watch the stillness and reset in sunrise with you.

Monolink at sunrise was so much better. And playa magic brought my Russian friend dancing right behind me for my perfect playa dust gift. And Molly found me for the next trip while you said goodbye at sunrise. I didn’t want you to go. I really didn’t want you to go. But I didn’t know how to ask you to stay. Or if I should.

You were a blessing for me and I’m so grateful we could share my first trip together. Thank you for making me feel safe. Thank you for taking care of me throughout. I texted you shortly after we parted to express my gratitude. But without cell service and/or wifi I have no idea if you ever received it. But at least I know I sent it.

I stayed up all day wanting more connection with you but finding more connection with me. What’s meant to be will be. Que sera, sera–they say. I hope the Italian you appreciates that for one of our meet-cutes was supposed to be you teaching me Italian again. I remember 😊

I’m glad you found me for a bit. I’m glad we spent some time together–frozen and fleeting time, thawed time, solid time, connected time, and being time. I’m glad our reunion existed.

The next day I missed the Costco soulmate match because I stopped for ice cream along the way, just next door, one door pass my reached destination. Because someone shouted enticing ice cream offerings on the street, as often happens on streets here. Little did I know, Costco soulmate would be at capacity after ice cream. And I’d lose this specific organized shot for the year. At least I got 3 chocolates, even though I was waiting for the pineapple to freeze again, but it never froze for me while I was there. Oh well. Chocolate series it is. The fourth chocolate I came upon there didn’t come in ice cream form, and she found me an artist. She said I looked like one. I agreed. Because why the heck not? When did I lose the artist in me? Only when I let someone else steer my life. My artist is the happiest, and somehow also holds expressions only those most pained would recognize in the brightness. It is the complexity of my being. I feel I came into existence this way. The start of my life was a mix of blessings and hardships, not much different in sentiment from the rest of my life every day thereafter.

Then I found you again at a time I’m not sure you wanted to be found. 3 minutes after you waking up. Basically naked just in your underwear hiding from the heat. 10 minutes after I met your entire camp and took your camp photo without you in it. Then I found you. Ironic. You’re charmingly adorable to me in ways you have no idea about, and that makes it even more charmingly adorable to me. Spider man kiss goodbye🦸‍♀️

Later I searched for you again that night. Almost all night. The music was so much better, and Mayan Warrior killed it that night, and all I wanted was to dance with you under the celestial twinkling night stars again like when everything disappears except us. But I think you were at Robot Heart. I went to so many places, to places I wanted to go, and to places I thought you might be. I wandered in my company, seeking yours. I looked, but I never found you that night.

I experienced sunrise lying under the blanket on a bed art car at Mayan Warrior being held by new friends; one of whom was essential in the next few days of my burn art exposure/views/experience and getting me home.

I let go of the search. For you and for home. Then I found me and home.

I’m not waiting for the beat to drop anymore. I found me again. Not at temple, but right in front of temple–after I got kicked out of temple as it was closing to prep for temple burn. Surprising. I’d never guess temple wasn’t what I needed then. I was guided to where I needed to be, but never imagined.

In an art piece just outside of temple, I drew a red heart outline to leave my mark. I was looking to be filled, to be colored in. And I knew I could do it myself, but I wanted to feel the bliss of having someone else do it for me. So I left room for that to be. Then I found the hidden writings on the underside, it spoke to me directly: ‘Dear you, I knew you’d find me here.” I read it, and couldn’t help but cry. Definitely a watering tearing, but also that type of solid intense heartfelt soul crying out loud kind of cry. The type of cry in which I can understand best for me, but also the type of cry I’d guess is also so relatable to many.

“Dear you, I knew you’d find me here.” I knew it then. And I KNOW it now. For me, the “you” was me. And I wept with floodgates open at feeling me again after letting so much of myself be taken and lost during the energy suck of (an) abuser(s) I’m so glad I no longer tolerate in my life. A cold turkey cut off was the only way to go. It was the only way any piece of me could stand a chance of surviving in the already treacherous and tumultuous environments created. There was that confusing period when I mistook deceit for truth, danger for safety, anxiety for excitement, and sadness for joy. My reality had been entirely warped and distorted. I didn’t know what was real anymore. I didn’t know who I was anymore. My confidence had deteriorated over time, with the perpetual grating of my being over an extended period of time. And I thank the surviver in me who knew and fought for me to survive, she succeeded and I love her so much. My intuition has always been strong and impressively accurate. I learned I made conscious choices to ignore her. I learned not to do that anymore. She is so wise and I love her so much too.

Then there was also another thought. It wasn’t my first thought, but the you could also be you. And all the other people/experiences/things/revelations/mindsets (playa) magic granted me when I needed.

I’m grateful for you and glad you were part of my journey back to me. It started way before Burning Man, I just didn’t tell you.

I hope you’re also finding all the yous and let them all live alive and well. And love every part of yourself too. You’re beautiful and I hope you feel that more with each day on your journey.

Thank you for existing in my orbit and being part of mine for a while. Either just for a little while, all the while, and/or the entire while. I defer to you. You’ll find me if you want to 🙂

The universe supports me and guides me to all I need and want, including you. Don’t be surprised 😉 you are wanted and I hope you know that 🙂

And perhaps one day I’ll share this with you (again) just to make sure you do 🙂

❤️

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