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I gaze upon the Temple of Transition, this palace of grief, adorned by the tears and scribblings of thousands of Burners. The Temple is burned for our grief — an offering for our willingness to remember those that came before and perhaps those that never will. All I can think: I locate my bicycle on the edge of the perimeter and pedal madly back to camp.It is my third year drifting through Her halls, and this time, I finally understand why She is here. The light is orange by the time I return, panting for breath.I buckle my jeans, grab the remote and flick off the screen. Four years ago, newly married and financially stable, my wife Katherine and I discontinued birth control and waited for the inevitable to occur. Thus began the odyssey of doctor’s visits, diets, supplements, and hormone therapies, AKA “Trying to Get Pregnant.”5.2003 — The Past I am 22 and a pioneer in the early age of internet dating.I catch my image in the mirror, triggering an existential moment that feels utterly cliche — all the cautionary tales of my younger years flooding back in a montage of bad teen movies, Sex Ed classes, and awkward chats with my father. I’ve trawled the online profiles of Lavalife over the previous weeks, occasionally setting up dates with various eligible women.Inside the clinic, Katherine attempts her first injection under the watchful eye of the doctor. I record the scene on my i Phone for review later (in case she forgets) but also because it’s somehow absurdly funny. Plus, Katherine would have felt further guilt about her body’s lack of cooperation with the hormone therapy.We drive home and over the next few weeks she becomes an expert. She bids me farewell with a curb-side kiss and a promise to call me immediately with the results.We head for coffee and the conversation flows easily, punctuated by seagulls that follow our footsteps as we walk the trails beside the ocean. ” I can count the number on one hand and told her each circumstance. Our lips find each other.8.2011 — Treatment The first grey sky we’ve had in weeks wash the streets of Vancouver a dull monochrome. Traffic is light this morning for our appointment at the Genesis Fertility Clinic. After a year of attempting “natural” methods of restoring fertility (yoga, meditation, chinese herbs) the doctors suggested more drastic procedures. Katherine would need to self-inject with hormones twice a day for 3 weeks, returning to the clinic constantly to monitor the results. A few days later, in front of our apartment I pack an orange RV with a rusted bicycle and furry vest. We should have known before my planned departure to the Burning Man gathering in Nevada.

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”I don’t look at him when I respond “I don’t think I’m going to have children with Katherine.”That night, no tears are shed. Two weeks later, as I return to the footage for the first time, I glimpse again the intact Temple. And I weep.10.2011 — The Kiss The Burning Man Decompression is a regional party that occurs in many major cities. On the other, such interactions were beyond the boundaries of our monogamous partnership to which Katherine and I had vowed.I remember Katherine’s profile picture vividly: long dark hair, a mysterious Mona Lisa smirk, and the cleverness of her username: I glance at her age: 26.

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