Tag: life

Chapter Sixty-Nine – Seven of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I began to go to Frankies with Rhonda a lot.

The place became a home away from Lisa’s. Time spent there discovering myself and who I was. I found myself in allowing myself to have some kind of pleasure, to dress as I wanted and to even feel attractive. Frankies provided me with time to see my life as I wanted it to be. It gave me space to think, to lose myself to the music of the dance floor Rhonda sometimes dancing nearby, or if I was lucky another man. It felt freeing to be away from Lisa. I tried not to think about that after what she had given me.

“Jamieson, that’s complete bullshit and you know it.” Rhonda said. We were outside of Frankies having a cigarette. The air was crisp with the scent of fall, and I knew that the leaves would start falling soon.

“It’s not,”

“It so is. You think that’s what you have been planting all this time? You have been wishing for a home, and you still feel guilty about hurting Lisa. You can’t do both. You need to think of yourself. You don’t do that enough.”

I shrugged. “I’ve always been told that thinking only of yourself is selfish.”

“Yeah, and who told you that?” She butted out her cigarette. “You’re fucking ex-boyfriends? Your family? I don’t see them here, do you?” She motioned around us. “Putting yourself first isn’t selfish, it’s self care.” At that moment, she looked at me and I could see the light shine brightly in her eyes. “I have an idea, come with me.”

“I’m not my cigarette yet.” I was being stubborn and I knew it. I took one last drag from the butt end and let the smoke out and dropped it to the pavement. I stepped on it with my high heeled boots. I was wearing a poet’s blouse in a light pink colour and a lose flowing broom skirt. It had once been black, but it had faded to a lovely shade of heather grey. I wore my black Doc Martin’s and thigh length black and white socks.

“Are you fucking done? We have places to go, come on.”

She took hold of my hand and headed downstairs towards the dance floor. I let her drag me with her and thought she was going to take us to the floor, but she took me to the darkness of the shadows towards a door that I hadn’t noticed before. It was under an exit sign, and I thought she was taking us to the back alley, but when she opened the door, I could see a hallway of black walls and a stone floor. It was lit by soft white light, and I had a moment of worry fill me.

Rhonda must have felt my hesitation and squeezed my hand. “It’s okay, we’re almost there.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. I wondered where this would lead me and what seeds I was planting by going in this direction. Did I want whatever I would find at the end of this hallway? My boots clacked on the stone, and I pretended that it was music, joining with the beat that I could hear from the dance floor and I let the beat push me forward to whatever awaited me.

Stopping in front of a door that I hadn’t noticed before, she knocked on it and opened the door before anyone could answer. “Hey Mike, what’s up?”

An older man with a strong jaw and brilliant grey eyes stood from behind a desk. He held out his arms to Rhonda and wrapped her in a big hug. “What’s shaking hot stuff?”

“Not a heck of a lot for me, but I have a solution for you.”

“And what solution is that?” He sounded interested. Mike was not humouring her. Clearly, they had a good relationship and had known each other for a long time. He looked at her as if she were not four feet nothing, but a woman who had proven her worth to him.

“You need an everyday boy, and I’ve found one for you.”

His eyebrows raised and his eyes looked even brighter. “Him?” he motioned at me.

“Yeah, him. This is Jamieson.”

“You trust him?” He asked her.

“With my life.”

Then he looked at me. He gave me an up and down look so that he could take me all in. I had the feeling that I was being assessed, not judged. I held his gaze for as long as he stared at me and then he nodded as if he had made up his mind.

“Jamieson, my name is Mike. Me and my partner run this place. We need a guy to be the doorboy for the dancers. Maybe some nights, we need help cleaning the bar, especially the champagne rooms. Washing floors and the like. That sound okay to you? We’ll pay you under the table, twenty-five bucks to do the door for a few hours plus tips. Probably the same for cleaning.  Does that sound okay?”

I had never thought about getting any kind of job. I knew that I wanted to do something more than sitting around reading and eating bread with peanut butter. Magic and Pagan gatherings didn’t take up a lot of my time. I spent all my time with Lisa, and this job would give me something to do and somewhere to go that wasn’t her place.

“Of course,” I said. “Yes, it does. I’d like that.”

“We only have one rule that you have to follow. Ready for it?”

“Sure,”

“Have fun. Life is too short. Okay?”

I nodded and I shook the hand he held out. “Okay.”

“Good, I’m glad. Can you start this Thursday? Dancers are Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.”

That was in a couple of days. “That sounds awesome!” I told him.

“I like that enthusiasm. You’ll fit in fine here.”

As we were leaving the bar, Rhonda took my hand. “There you go, honey. You’re all set. Now we just have to find you a new place to live. Don’t worry, though. I have ideas.”

We walked onward and I let go of her hand briefly so that I could light a cigarette. I took her hand again with my free one. “Why would you do that for me?” My words came out in puffs of smoke, and I was reminded momentarily of the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland. I tried to see if the words I wanted to say would come out in smoke. I watched as the smoke from my mouth fell to the ground to grace the pavement

She gave me an incredulous look. “Really? Don’t you get it? I’m trying to plan for your future. You’re not going to be on welfare forever you know, not like her. She may have decided that this is it for her, but I know that you’re capable of so much more.” We stopped walking so that she could light her own cigarette. “I have dreams and I want more than this. Don’t you? I want you to realize that it’s not wrong to dream. And you already know how I feel about how she treats you.”

She was angry and though I was used to her temper, I had never seen Rhonda like this. Tears appeared in her eyes, but they remained unshed. Her walls were down and she stood bare in front of me. This was the part of her that was planted beneath that tough bitch exterior, and I was honoured that she was showing herself to me like this.

 She blinked a few times and took a few deep breaths so that her mascara would be saved. “I mean, you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you’re so fucking nice. It pisses me off to see how she treats you, like you are forever the protégé, never the master, but you’re ten times the person she is, and you can’t see it.”

Butting out her cigarette, she took my shoulders in her hands. “I’m trying to do something for your future, Jamieson. You deserve so much more out of life than being someone else’s fucking lapdog. You’re capable of greatness and you can’t see it yet, but I can.”

“And working in a bar will lead me there?” I gave her a soft smile. I couldn’t describe what it was like to have someone believe in me this much.

She took my hand again and we were walking again. “It will get you out of her house and into the world again. You can’t hide forever. Sometimes, you have to step out of the nest and fly, honey.”

I looked down at my arms and wondered if I was capable of growing wings. I wondered what colour they would be. The wind picked up and I could hear the sound of music and the noises of traffic. The wind made the leaves around me rustle and I added the whisper of leaves to the music that I heard around me. I could hear my breath as I let smoke leave my lips and the beat of my heartbeat and the click of my footsteps and I wondered what was possible.

Chapter Sixty-Eight – Six of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

“I can’t believe you’re having me wear this to a bar.” I told Rhonda.

She stopped and looked back at me. I felt odd but oddly free wearing the black skirt and sparkly top. It was a beautiful skirt. It hugged my legs and went from my knees to my waist. There were buttons that ran the whole length of it and they were covered in velvet. I had never work anything so fancy in such a long time. The green crop top left my belly uncovered, but the sparkles made up for that. Rhonda had given me a pair of fishnets that had been the wrong size and I put everything together with my black Doc Martins that I had gotten at Rock Junction. The whole outfit really worked, and I was surprised how comfortable I felt.

“It’s what’s going to get you in without paying a cover. It’s fetish night at Frankies on Frank. If you go in with a fetish, you don’t pay a cover.”

“What’s my fetish?”

“Jamieson, cross dressing is a fetish, but it’s also very now. You look good, not every man can pull it off, but you got hips and curves. You gotta show those off. And look at your fucking legs! Why have you kept those covered up? You’re gorgeous and you’re covering your whole body. You don’t need to hide yourself because others were ashamed of you. You wore a fucking sarong to Kaleidoscope, what’s the difference?”

“We were isolated there.” I told her frankly. That was part of the truth. I was more vulnerable because of the shape of the skirt. There was nowhere to hide within it. It felt too open in downtown Ottawa. I was exposed here. I felt like I was in the open sea with the way that the wind brushed past me, and I could feel every perceived eye upon me. Part of me wanted to hide behind Rhonda, but there was a bigger part of me that was excited. I was thrilled at being brave enough or foolish enough to doing this. I loved the brashness of it and how alive I felt. My whole body felt at home within these clothes, and I was terrified and thrilled at the same time. I didn’t know what to do.

Rhonda could sense my discomfort. Putting a hand on my arm, she gave me a stern look and a grin. “You’ve got this, honey. Besides, going in with a fetish saves you five bucks and that can be used for a beer.”

I let out a laugh. “Well, then what’s your fetish?”

She made a motion with her right hand to encompass all of her form. “Honey, I am the fetish. This is my home. I’m among my kind here. Every Thursday night is fetish night. I am seen here and you will be, too.”

We approached Frankies and I was surprised to see that it was an old three-story house that had been made into a bar. “Bottom level is the dance floor; middle floor is the bar where everyone cruises for what they need and the third floor is where the strippers are, there’s always a cover for that floor, too. The place you want to be is the attic. That’s where we’re going tonight.”

I could hear music coming from inside the place and my spirit wanted to lose itself to the rhythm. The thought of a bar frightened me though, despite the call of the music. Gay bars had never been kind to me. I had learned to build walls around myself in places like this and now I was going to enter this place dressed in women’s clothes.

Stopping to look up at the house, the beat of the beat of the music pulling me closer despite my need to protect myself. Rhonda lit a smoke and took a few puffs before passing it to me. “Here, honey. It’s going to be okay. Just embrace the part of yourself that danced in front of the fire at Kaleidoscope. You’ve got the goods, now show ‘em off.” She took the smoke from me and took a few more puffs before butting it out. “Come on.”

We entered the doors and I felt the full pull of the music wrap its arms around my body. I could feel the music, and it felt like I had been immersed in water. The bar was softly lit and we were met by one of the bar tenders when we entered. “You’re not here alone tonight, Rhonda?” He was tall and thin and had brown hair that came down to his shoulders. He had deep brown eyes and stubble on his jaw. “Who’s the skirt?” He gave me what I hoped was an appreciative glance and a wink.

“This here is Jamieson. You be nice to him Jake. He’s new.”

Jake was standing by the door. I could see men and women mingling, drinks in their hands. The music that I’d heard from outside was louder in here and though it wouldn’t have the base of the dance floor, the music here moved me warmed me. The bar gave off this feeling of warmth and welcome. People were having fun here and the air of the place seemed celebratory. The sound of music and the voices of others pulled me in and I could feel myself moving away from where I was toward something I could not see.

It had been so long since I’d been to a bar and the whole thing seemed part otherworldly and part mysterious. There was an elated feel to the air that combined with the music that I could hear and the beat that I could feel in the floor from the dance floor down below.

“You here for fetish night?”

“Aren’t I always?” She gave him a wink. “That’s where the getting is good, you know that.”

She went up the stairs in front of me and I followed. I heard a whistle behind me, and I turned to see Jake giving looking at me up and down. “Nice legs,” he said.

I smiled awkwardly. Jake was cute. He had long brown hair worn in a shag cut that hung to his shoulders and he wore his green t-shit and jeans really well.  I could see the lustre and shine from his hair and his dark eyes more clearly from my higher advantage point. I felt cheeky and gave him a wink and made sure to add an extra wiggle in my butt as I was going up the stairs.

The wooden steps creaked as I made my way up the stairs behind Rhonda, the banister smooth underneath my touch from the thousands of others before me that made the same climb. We arrived on the floor where the strippers danced, and the music was stronger here. The air was filled with the scent of need and desire. A kind of musk filled the air. I had a fleeting sight of a drag queen in a red wig, a half naked man walking after her to what I presumed was the dance floor.

Rhonda noticed me looking. “They have the whole thing here. The dancers perform and if you want to, you can have a private dance in the champagne room.”

“You ever go?”

“No, I don’t like champagne,” she said giving me a wink. “The bubbles make me burp. Plus, I don’t need to pay to see a boy bump and grind. But we’re going one floor up. Mind your step, the stairs are a little slimmer here.”

She was right. I made my way carefully up the small flight of stairs and wondered what awaited me. There was less light up here and I could hear the melody of people’s voices grow louder as we made our way further upward. The stairs went around a corner only to open up into the attic. There was a bar to the left of the room and a bartender talking to one of the other patrons, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. In one of the corners of the room, there was a wooden cross set up like an X. There was a gentleman dressed in leather pants whose wrists and ankles were being gently placed into leather braces. The man placing him on the wooden X made sure that he was secure, kissed him and then gently began to whip him. Rather than causing the man on the X pain, the whipping seemed to be bringing him no end of joy.

I looked away wanting to give them both privacy and when I turned my head, I saw a woman with red hair who was topless. She was letting another woman gently apply clamps to her nipples and the whole act seemed to be not one of dominance, but one of love. I wasn’t used to seeing two acts that I would associate with pain, but the people that were being whipped and clamped were experiencing pain.

“There are all kind of ways to deal with pain, Jamieson. Sometimes, you need to find an outlet for it, a way to release the pain you’re carrying.”  Walking up to the bar, she motioned for two beers and handed one to me. “Maybe this will give you the release you need. Maybe it won’t, but I wanted you to see your options.”

I looked at the attic room filled with people who were unashamed of who they were and what turned them on. I didn’t know if I was ready to experience any of this, but it was comforting to know that I could be completely myself here, too, as much as I was in the Pagan community. It felt like Rhonda had shown me another side of myself, one that I had been ashamed of for so long, but she was showing me a way out of that shame.

“It’s okay to be wounded,” Rhonda said softly. “It’s how you learn. Sometimes, you have to move away from what is trying to hold you back. I’m not saying break ties but put up the boundaries you need so that you can do what you want.”

I knew that she was talking about a great many things at once, we had talked about everything after all. She knew that my finding a way forward mattered to me and she knew that not having a home of my own was a growing concern. She knew of my need to be out on my own despite the guilt I felt at wanting to leave Lisa’s place.

What she was telling me was that it was okay to move on. There would be pain, of course there would be, but I would be better for it.  “Thank you,” I told her.

“You’re welcome, now watch my beer. I’m getting some.” I watched as Rhonda sashayed up to the wooden X and allowed herself to be strapped into the leather cuffs.

Chapter Sixty-Six – Four of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in Uncategorized

With my resume out into the world, there was nothing I could do but wait.

I looked at every job board I could for work. Darnelle had given me a copy of my resume on a USB key so that I would have it with me at all times should I have need of it. I didn’t have a computer of my own, but with Darnelle’s help, I had uploaded it to several job banks. I still had my pager, so I used that as my main number, but she had also told me to put her phone number on the resume as well.

“I can take message for you and then you won’t miss anything.”

“Why are you being so good to me?” I said without thinking.

She gave me a smack with her eyes. “Because you deserve it, that’s why. I keep telling you that. I know you have to question everything to determine if the person is being sincere. I get that’s it’s a protection thing, but please just let me help you because I want to.”

“Okay,” I told her. Darnelle always was able to see into the heart of a matter and speak it plainly. There was no keeping anything from her. It wasn’t that she saw through a person. She helped a person find words for what they were feeling. I had seen her do it with Lisa and her son.

With her help, that flame that had begun with a spark of a decision I had made when I was with Franis had become a small flame.  It was the flame of hope. With each passing day, it was becoming more difficult to keep that flame alight.

I didn’t realize how long I would have to wait. I had hoped that this new part of my life would start quickly, but I knew that things would happen in their own time. I still didn’t like waiting. I had prepared myself mentally to get going, to move, for something to happen and now I had to wait. I had difficulty with being patient, especially when I was desperate for change to happen right away.

I asked my cards what I had to be ready for. I drew cards whenever I wanted guidance, my cards always nearby, but I kept drawing the Four of Disks from my deck and it was beginning to frustrate me. I knew that I kept drawing the same card because spirit wanted me to focus. I hadn’t learned what I was supposed to lean yet. My spirit was asking me to honour the rest between the spark and the want. It was enough for me to hold onto the idea, but I had to be patient while spirit worked on my wish. I had learned that magic was sixty percent intent, ten percent hope and thirty percent patience. I had little to no patience and hated that I was being asked to put my faith in time.

I wanted to move and welcome change, I was ready. I wondered if it was because change wasn’t ready for me. In the card, a man stands in an open field in front of a bird. They are standing in a stalemate; the bird is looking at the man, and the man is looking beyond the bird. He is ignoring the wisdom of stillness and waiting to see what the future would bring.

I felt like this, too. My roll of foam was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. It was like my body had decided that it wanted more. It dreamed of comfort. It had been so long since I had slept in a bed. My mind and spirit wanted the same and it was unusual for my body, mind and spirit to want the same thing.

There was the added problem that I felt guilty about hiding everything from Lisa. She had no idea that I had written up a resume and that Darnelle had helped me send them out. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t really keeping it a secret, but I knew that I was. Lisa wouldn’t be understanding of the fact that I was looking for work or that I had done it behind her back with Darnelle’s help. For all of Lisa’s talk of peace, love and light she was a true Warrior Witch and she would take down anyone that displeased her. I had seen her do it with others. She was always having a disagreement with someone about something. This was the first time that I had hidden something from her.

In the end, I knew that I was doing this for me. I wanted something different than what I had now and I knew that the only way to do it was to find work. I knew that I would find something, but I had no idea how long I would have to wait.

Outside on the back porch, I watched as the sky turned to dusk again. I could see the moths flocking near the brightness of the backyard light and felt the change in the wind as it shifted around me. I watched the smoke being pulled out of my cigarette. With every drag of smoke I took, I filled it with my wish so that when the wind pulled the smoke from my open mouth, it would taken my wish out into the air.

I hated waiting, but I also knew that I had to let the healing take its time. I took another breath and released the smoke out into the ether.

Chapter Sixty-Four – Two of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I had big dreams, but I had no idea how to go about them.

It had been so long since I held a job. The last one had been during university, and I’d held a volunteer job a couple of summers before. I knew that the easiest way out of my current situation was to find a job.

For the past couple of years, I had only been concerned with obtaining food for my stomach and a roof over my head. That had been what drove me and it had been my only concern, aside from finding my way. I was fortunate enough to have met some everyday angels along the way. Lisa was one of them. She had taken me into her home and given me houseroom. Albeit on her floor, but still, she fed me out of the food supplies that we all got at the food bank down the street from her place. Could I betray her kindness?

I was constantly going back and forth about this. Darnelle noticed on one of her visits that I wasn’t myself. She waited until Lisa had gone back inside to get a fresh pack of cigarettes and more coffee to ask me what was wrong.

“What’s bothering you, kid?” she asked

“Nothing,” I told her, wanting to keep it to myself.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Jamieson. I can see right into you, and I know there is something bothering you. My son is the same way” She handed me a cigarette. “How about a trade? I give you a cigarette and you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

“You don’t need to bribe me. You and I both know that I’ll tell you eventually.”

“Sure, but this way it’s an exchange so it’s a balance. I know what it’s like to hold on to everything and have no one to tell.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to bother you.”

She let out a laugh and lit the cigarette before passing it to me. “Tough. You have to change, Jamieson. You just can’t accept that people want to care about you so you do what they can to keep them out before something can happen.”

“Wow, that’s quite the mom talk.” I said with a laugh.

“Right? It doesn’t work on my son; I thought I’d try it on you.” Taking a sip of coffee, she pointed at me with her cigarette. “Go on, spill. I know you want to hold on, but it will feel better letting go. Go on, before she gets back.”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to mince words and she was right. I needed to change my habits. I had to be able to adapt to a new path if I went looking for one. I needed to start somewhere.  “I want more.” It felt like a release saying the words out loud. “I want more than this. I want my own place.” I took a drag of my cigarette to give me strength. When I blew the out the air I held, I could see the words that I was about to speak in the within the smoke. “I want more. I know that I need a job, but I have no idea about how to go about applying for one. I had planned on waiting until Lisa had her baby, but it’s becoming harder and harder to hold on to that light. Literally, as I’m sleeping on the fucking floor.”

There was a moment of silence between us, then Darnelle let out a laugh and stood to hug me tightly, careful of our cigarettes. “I am so happy. You make me so fucking happy, Jamieson. Thank the gods.”

I had expected shock but had not been prepared for the sheer joy. “You’re not upset?”

“Jamieson, you’re so young. It pained me to see you throwing your life away like Lisa has.” She saw the look of shock on my face. “Don’t misunderstand me, I love Lisa, she’s my friend and I’ve known her for a long time, but she gave up trying a long time ago. She’s content to stay on welfare when she is perfectly capable of working. She just doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t feel young. How am I supposed to find a job that I can do? I haven’t worked since university.”

“You and I will work on this. Come to my place tomorrow and we can work on your resume. I can make anyone sound good on paper and you can sell yourself, too. You’re good at talking to people, Jamieson, even if you have difficulty letting people in. You’re a gifted writer, too. You’re wasted here.” She gave me a strong look and looking into her eyes, I wondered how her son could deny her anything.

“Won’t Lisa be upset that I’m trying to better myself?” One of her constant refrains was the grind of the people, working for the man instead of living for the sake of living.

Darnelle waved a hand. “Who the fuck cares what she thinks. This is about you. You have to choose this for you.

Looking at Dar, I knew that I would make that choice. We both heard the sound of Lisa’s voice. She came out, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other with a lit cigarette in her lips

Giving me a look, Lisa said “What’s about you? Did you write another story?”

“I’m going to give Jamieson help.” Darnelle said slowly. I could tell that she was choosing her words carefully. “He needs to work on his resume, and I wanted do some spirit work with him, introduce him to the Medicine Wheel Cards.” I hoped that Lisa would focus on the Medicine Wheel Cards and that she had not heard the other words.

“Resume? For what?”

I sighted. There were two ways that I could play this. I knew that I could lie to her, but Lisa had given me room in her home and food from her cupboards. I owed her the truth. I had planned to keep it a secret but changed my mind. “For a job.” I told her. “I want to find a job.”

She looked at me with wide shocked eyes for a moment. Then she let out a loud laugh. “Good one! Who would want to hire you?” She grinned at me as if she had made a big joke, but I knew that she had spoken her truth.

I looked at her and felt the earth begin to shake and crack beneath me, throwing me off balance. Lisa didn’t see or feel anything, but Dar and I looked at each other. I knew that she could see the shift within me.

I turned to Dar. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said with conviction.

Chapter Sixty-Two – King of Swords

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

I was once again by the fire.

This was one of the last nights at the Kaleidoscope gathering. I had attended more rituals and gotten to know so many people, more than I thought that my world could hold. As I sat there watching the fire, a thought occurred to me. I knew why I had been holding myself back. I had assumed that everyone would hate me after what had happened with Francis. He was an elder in the Ottawa Pagan community. I had thought that when he had ended things, my connection to this world would also be over.

I had felt like an imposter here, as if people were staring at me all the time. Over the week that I’d been living on this small island, I had come to realize that people weren’t staring at me, but genuinely happy to see me. I had put myself in kind of a self-exile. I had placed so much value on what Francis thought of me that I had thought that the magic would be gone when he left.

I hadn’t realized that it was just beginning.

The fire was bright as the sky began to darken. We were all around the fire, waiting for the darkness so that we could be truly free from our bodies and minds so that we could let our spirits dance freely. It was as I was looking for the stars that I saw him.

Francis had come to the circle.

I had spent almost the whole week without seeing him. The sight of him was enough to make my heart stop, but only for a moment. A million word ran through my head, speeches that I thought I would say to him if I ever saw him again, conversations that I had imagined, the words as real as if they had truly happened. Scenes that I had imagined went through my mind, bringing up all the thoughts that I had been carrying within me. I wanted to rage at him, scream at him for the weight he had left me with. I was angry with the fierceness of young love when it is still bright and true.

When a spark from the fire landed near my foot, I had an idea.

I got up from the log I was sitting on and instead of heading towards Francis so that we could have one of the conversations that I had imagined in my mind, I turned towards the fire. I had left my things safely hidden in my tent, so I didn’t have my journal with me. Instead, I turned to face the fire, and I plucked what I had wanted to say to him out of my mind, imagining the words writing themselves in a loopy cursive script:

I will always be hurt by what you have done to me.

You have shaped what I think of men.

You showed me that love hurts more than it helps.

You took everything and it still wasn’t good enough.

I will never be able to love again.

One by one, I plucked those phrases from my mind, the pieces of paper brown with age, and tossed them in the fire so that they were no longer true. With each scrap of paper I threw into the fire, I reclaimed a little more of myself each time, gathering up the light and leaving the shadow on the page. As the flames took the words, my mind became clearer as I watched each piece turn to smoke.

When I turned back, Francis was gone.

The fire was so bright when the darkness finally came that I was blinded for a moment. All I could see were shadows dancing with the flames and hear the call of the drum song. I let the music pull me forward and the fire pull me inward. I let go and danced, gave up any reason that was left in my mind and lost myself to magic.

I was free.