The Secret life of Jennifer and Jessica

I just sent a text to her that said “I want to see a shaman.”  Her response was, “Random.” But then she realize I was alluding to the book that she sent me.  A book about the magical adventures of a single life (literally) that she felt was near and dear to her own tale. I, too, found my parallels with the book and contemplated silently…or maybe it was out loud–since I’m only me I find it doesn’t make much difference–how is it that she and I run the same course so often.

We found ourselves broken at the same time.  Hating relationships and lovehating men at the same time.  Being attracted to all the wrong things drunk off champagne and high on glitter.  That was us and we complemented each other nicely.  It all started with a mutual love of gossip and late night dominos, and something of a sisterhood grew behind that wooden desk on that old moldy sofa nestled in the nook under the mailboxes haunted by the so-called ghost.  Since then its grown stronger, watered by tears and fed by laughter our friendship flowered and released a scent that begs you to point your head to the sunshine and twirl carelessly.  That’s kind of how we prefer to live, without a care in the world even when there are many.

So when I said to her, “I want to see a shaman.” It was no surprise to me that she agreed and wanted to see one too.  As it was no surprise to her when I told her the intensity at which I feel others, especially her.  She asked me once what her color was and I told her lavender, but the truth is she is many colors and more than that she is a feeling of home.  Somewhere nestled beneath fields of lavender under a warm sunset there is a breeze that dances just like she does.

I know that many things may happen in this life. We will love and we will lose love but we will not lose each other, my sister and I.  For as much as she is the fields of blossoms I am the breeze and so we give each other reason when all else feels mundane.  An entire landscape and an entire horizon we are so much more than we think we are sometimes.  Here’s to the condor so that we may see the bigger picture.

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