I’m looking right at the other half of me right now. How is it that a woman like you finds her way here, of all places? And more importantly, how is it that I allowed it to happen? I’m asking that because it’s clearly a story I’m not ready to tell yet. So here is the only part of this story I have right now. The one where you tell me what you’re doing here. I don’t know what it means, it’s a new kind of strangeness. It could be nothing. Or it could be everything. You were not the woman I saw last night in the desert, and I’m not ready to get into what this is, because honestly, it’s easier to understand if I don’t. But you should know this: I want to be clear about the kind of woman I want you to be. You will need to be here, because there is something that is coming. A world is in chaos and the only way to move beyond it is to enter a world we do not understand. You must help me. I can’t make it alone. I need you to tell me what the hell is going on and what I need to do. It is your choice to listen or not. But this is where you are. I will not tell you more. I will only tell you this: a long time ago a woman was here before you. She was an outsider and you must listen to her, if you want to know where you came from. She will guide you. But be wary. I am not in the habit of giving away much before a good conversation. But I am very curious about you. You were different than anyone else, that much I can tell you. You were a woman of power, no doubt. Powerful will. A woman of strength, without doubt. A woman who knows. A woman who has been here before, perhaps many times before. You have been sent for. Your voice is beautiful. I have been listening to the music of it for a long time. You must not worry. If you stay quiet it will come back to you in time, and when you wake up in the morning, it will be there, the next story in your book. We will talk, just not right now. I will wait for you to return, but I hope you make haste because this thing we’re hunting down is close and will strike again, soon. I have a strange feeling that it’s coming here. With love, the woman before you. So we’re on a road trip, on our way to the desert. And yes, it has always been my dream to go there. I have no idea where you’re from but in the movie, this guy who’s going to live in the desert seems like a good guy. He seems like a good kind of guy. He has a little bit of an attitude, but I like him. He has a little bit of a swagger but I like him, too. And he’s just not the same as any of the rest of these guys in this movie. I think they’re all kind of evil but this guy is nice. He’s got a little bit of a swagger, I think, but also not everything’s in his face all the time. I used to write to this guy, a long time ago when I was young. He wrote back once and I’ve kept that letter, a long letter. It’s not in my book because he isn’t in my book. And he’s not in the movie. He’s not in the story. But he wrote this thing that is in my mind, because it’s written so beautifully, the way he said it, it has always stayed in my mind. And I wrote a book with my other friends, it was the first book I ever wrote, just to write back and tell him this thing, this beautiful thing, this truth that he told me. It was written by me and my friends so that we could remember it, that this is what I wanted to say. And I did. I wrote my way through a lot of things. It doesn’t show, but it was very hard. It didn’t come out looking good. It was very ugly and angry and confused and confusing and the letter was hard to write and so I kept the letter for years, I was mad at him and his answers just confused me. I wanted to go to this guy, to say thank you. I wrote a letter and I didn’t know if he’d ever read it. It’s not in my book and it’s not in the book I wrote with my friends either. And so it was just this letter that I wanted to write to him but I’m not going to. I wish I could tell you that I talked to him. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was a good guy. He was a really good guy. But I never got to meet him. I got up. I can tell you that it was a really good feeling. To come out of my body. It was something that I never felt before and it was a really good feeling, like I had escaped something or someone. And I was sitting outside with JT. He said something about how he didn’t think that it was a good idea. He thought that I was going to die. He thought it was very, very strange. I didn’t see you. I didn’t want to. I knew it was you and I was right, and I didn’t want to see you, but you were right there. I wanted to ask you some questions. I wanted to know who you are. I wanted to ask you about my life. About what is wrong. But I didn’t want to see you, and I’m still not sure I understand what this whole thing is, where you are, how it works, what it is. I only remember my life as stories. I do not remember my life. That’s the thing that’s strange. It’s like I was born and then my memory was there, one story at a time. I don’t remember how the story is connected. I don’t know where it starts. When I met you I tried to go in and ask you what the story is and you stopped me. I think you said that it wasn’t important. But this is all I have, all I know to hold on to. And you’re here, you’re here. And if you’re here, I should be. So now I’m going to have to look for you, because if you’re not here, then I don’t know what to do. It’s almost like you knew I was going to do this. This is what I do. I always try to find my friends but that’s not what this is. You can say no if you want. I think it would be a mistake, but it’s still an option. I can walk away. Because I’m not sure what it is that I’m supposed to do here