In The Wind
Come Home
My heart hurts. My soul is not okay. Someone I love is missing.
It’s not the first time I’ve felt this pain. I grew fond of a drifter in California. He was a jolly giant who loved Disney. We cleaned bathrooms together at a travel hostel when I was working for The Mouse. I’d get us free admission to go ride the silly little rides on Wednesdays. When the hostel situation fizzled, KW and I split. I told him I wouldn’t change my number.
We briefly reconnected and lived together in downtown LA. He was an amazing cook, and damn could that man make food stamps stretch. But it was 2019 going on 2020, COVID hit and threw everyone into a tizzy. His job rolling blunts ended abruptly. He’d venture out into the destitute landscape each day, come home with gummy bears and a 40oz of Mike’s Hard, near tears. He was a traveling man, unable to abide by the lockdown laws.
I pray for KW often. I wonder where he is. How he is. Who he’s spending time with. If he still loves Disney. Heavy on repeat, though, are my prayers for FVM. My bb. He’s a subscriber, so heyyyyy, if you see this maybe check-in???? That’d be superb. I’ve got folks on the East Coast who want to meet you. Who want to help you find the housing you deserve. Your family wants to know you’re all right. I’m trying to plan a trip out to Cali, and it would break my heart to drive through Pomona without you.
This post is an attempt to raise communal awareness that my love is missing. Perhaps if the collective consciousness rallies around him, he’ll feel it and make contact. It crosses my mind that maybe he doesn’t want to be found. Maybe there’s shame. Fatigue. Anger. Hopelessness. But that’s not the man I fell in love with. FVM is strong. He’s the most caring, energetic, hopeful and joyful person on the block. He knows how to cook reallllllly good food. He manages mood swings like a champ and gives incredible massages. He’s great with babies and animals. He rolls spliffs like a cowboy. A really sexy cowboy. The world needs more people like him.
I’m calling him back, regresa a mi Fari, regresa a mi. te quiero. My mind refuses to go to the worst. i KNOW in my bones we’ll meet again. This is just a hiccup. An unfortunate and uncomfortable hiccup. The grief hits me in waves, and then I come back to my central principle: all will work out on Goddesses’ time.
Today I did a Tai Chi class led by our mutual friend Sunrise on IG Live. It was raining in LA. I dedicated my practice to Fari, and willed with all my being that he is safe and dry. It’s raining here in New York, too. I’m sipping on herbal tea and leaving now to pray the rosary with mi abuelita. With all my spirit I pray that before the solar eclipse he resurfaces.
The photo is of KW and FVM—my guys—on one of our strolls through downtown LA. I can’t wait to be reunited with them. Inshallah. <3 <3 <3
Sincerely,
TB