I'm in Ct, in my friend's room, in her bed. She is in the guest room, hopefully sleeping. She has cancer. Her husband just lost his job, their insurance. He is in another state, not by her side right now. Her father is dying. We wait for the call from hospice. She is hopeful, funny, unique. Hurting. But surviving. I am here, wanting to offer comfort, support. Strength. Humor. Hope. I adore her, in a girl admiration kind of way. What am I, just a player in this horrific play, wishing for a happy ending, a validation of her spirit. The first time I visited here after Burning Man was a fantasy, a crazy, wild nite of drunken silliness. It will never be that again...but I don't care about that. This is so much more real, genuine and has its own beauty. Her pain and endurance make me feel like we (all of us!!!!!) can get through anything. And come out the other side, different, but even more beautiful, more raw, more authentic.
I continue to hope.
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