This was my last night at Burning Man. The event is over and most of the people and artists have packed up. Just a few of us stragglers are left and there was one big fire where people could use front loaders to dump wood scraps and structures to be burned and the ashes bulldozed into dumpsters. I was transfixed trying to think what to do. I couldn't stay at Burning Man, they kept telling us to "go home" but I had no idea where that was. My temporary room in a house I was renting away from my husband who hurt me while I was lying naked in his arms? Or the home we had shared for the last three years filled with friends and sad knowing faces? I didn't want to move, I wanted to stay in that moment and just watch everything that was left in that desert burn. I wanted the world to stop, time to stop. I wanted to die in the desert and never come back. Instead I just cried and I went to a burn-off party (where all the propane fire artists burn off the last of their fuel in one big party) I saw my friend there who is a divorce lawyer and I finally asked for help. That I was ready or not....I had no choice, I had to go home and I had to face the rest of my life. Whatever that is.