First Burning Man

In those days that I had to wait so impatiently, ten years ago, for your arrival, little sweetheart, you surprised me by saying that you had decided to go to Burning Man for a day or two. You’d never been before and, frankly, I couldn’t understand exactly why you wanted to now - you hated being in the sun or being too hot and it didn’t seem like something you would enjoy but your friend Danya had been many times and she was going again this year and she convinced you to try it.

You found your way but mostly only coming out at night, staying in your tent and trying to keep cool and sleeping until the sun went down and then galavanting around the desert after dark when it was cooler and the nightlife was in full swing. You loved dancing, even just on your own, and that mostly what you liked at Burning Man, I think.

There were some things you didn’t like about it but mostly you wanted to do it again - with me. You thought of all the ways you could make a second time a bit more comfortable and you said you’d been thinking about how much you wished I was there for all of it with you. I remember how excitedly you told me about it after and even a month or so later when you and I were together in Davis - I can remember exactly where we were getting out of your car and continuing talking down the street to Blockbuster to get a movie - that you wanted to go the next year with me.

I never got to do that with you, little sweetheart. And even though I’m a bit sun averse like you and the desert and club scene didn’t immediately appeal, there’s nothing and nowhere I could be with you that wouldn’t be magic. I think of it still. And I love you forever.