“Like, right now.”
He was pissed. He was really pissed. He stood up and started punching my chest. For a moment I wondered if my missed playdate with TwistedView would happen right there.
As I back peddled, somehow Murphy added into the mix, suggesting he could punch my back while TwistedView attacked my front. I was having none of that.
I screamed no. And then I ran. Like seriously ran. TwistedView grabbed onto me, but I clawed my way free, sprinting onto the asphalt path. I turned and saw the two of them slowly approaching.
“No. I’m serious guys. No.”
Still, they crept forward.
“Are you going to call red?”
“I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.”
Their menacing stares receded. They gave assurances they were done.
Instead of punching me, they wanted to hug me bye. The two of them surrounded me. And then Murphy asked the magical question.
“How are you? It’s seemed like you’ve been off this camp.”
And then I could finally say it, could finally reveal the weight on my heart. I missed all the people that weren’t there.
Life is life. You cannot predict it. Sometimes you’re just along for the ride.
Some of people at the last FetFest were not there this year, but there were two that pierced my heart to its core. Lil Sis was out of the country and Gray was in Hawaii.
As I drove to camp, I realized their absences were the source of my reluctance to go in the first place. It took me til 3pm to arrive even though I had planned to show up as soon as registration opened (11am).
I thought about them the whole time I was there. I remembered all the joy I had with them this past year and the many wonderful moments from last FetFest. As hard as I tried to fall into my camp experience, I couldn’t shake my dark cloud.
It didn’t matter that I knew I would see Gray in a week. It didn’t matter that I knew I was heading to London in a month. They weren’t there. And as much as I wanted to love my event, it just didn’t feel the same to me without them.
When I left on Sunday I was sad to go but also relieved. I didn’t have to try to hide my sadness, didn’t have to push myself to participate, didn’t have to be on, didn’t have to do anything. I could just be me, sad-quiet-people-missing-not-funtastic-at-the-moment me.
It’s hard for me to give my pain voice. And, because of that, I did not have the event I could’ve.
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