Truly, Madly, Like Me - Jo Watson Page 0,16

that could reverberate through walls. It wasn’t forced or fake either. It was authentic and genuine and suddenly I felt desperately sad. In the face of his obvious authenticity, I felt so suddenly inauthentic. Posting pictures and not eating breakfast. I was a fake breakfast eater! I was a liar, sharing my #nomnom breakfast and telling everyone how delicious it was, but never actually eating it. My laughter stopped abruptly and the Scotsman also stopped. I felt the tears in my eyes again, and I tried to bite them back.

“Now, now, that’s less of the spirit, lass,” he said, as tears started rolling down my cheeks. I was getting quite hysterical. I could feel it like a rubber band inside me being pulled until it was about to snap. I turned and watched the couple in the other part of the restaurant get up and walk out, eyeing me suspiciously as they went.

“This was a bad idea,” I finally said. “Coming here, to this town. This was such a stupid idea.”

“How do you figure that when you haven’t even been here for twenty-four hours?” he asked.

“How do you know how long I’ve been here?”

“Small town. Tiny hotel.”

I nodded and slumped back down onto the table again.

“You know what you need?” he asked.

“What?” I looked up at him from my face plant on the tablecloth.

“You need to go outside and get some fresh air. A walk in the Karoo fixes everything.”

“Does it?”

He nodded. “There is a quiet magic here in the desert—it has a way of seeping into your soul and making you new again.”

“Really?” I asked thoughtfully.

“Truly. There is something very spiritual about this place if you just tune into it.”

“I see,” I mumbled under my breath, even more thoughtful now.

Mmmm . . . Spiritual. Soul seeping. Making you new.

I lifted my head a little.

“Spiritual?” I repeated slowly.

“Very,” he said.

“I see.” I sat up straight now.

“You have to be open to it though.” He almost whispered this part, as if it was some great secret.

“Open, you say . . .” I stood up out of my chair when it dawned on me. Going out into the desert on a kind of sojourn of self-discovery would make amazing content! I could take photos of myself out there in the quiet emptiness under the setting sun. #soulsearching

“You know what, you’re right. I am all about making myself new. I’m all about inspiring and discovering and exploring and getting to know myself and nature. And my followers love journeys of self-discovery, hashtag spiritualawakening.”

“Uh . . . yeah, no!” he said flatly and then that giant hand reached out again. That huge one with the red fluff on the freckled knuckles. “I’m not really sure that’s what I meant, lass. I meant something spiritual that was just for you.”

I looked at him and scrunched my face up. “Why would I do something just for me?” I shook my head. What was the point of doing something if it couldn’t be shared? Not that I could share it right now, but I could keep it for later. Kyle always said that if we did something that wasn’t worthy of posting about, then we might as well not do it.

“So, how do I get into this desert?” I asked.

He smiled again; this time it did look forced. “We’re sort of surrounded by it.”

I nodded. “So I should just walk out this door and, what—carry on walking out of the town and into the desert?”

“Exactly.”

“Right!” I nodded at him. “I can do that! I am going to go and find myself and have a spiritual awakening in the desert.” And with that, I walked straight out.

“Good luck,” he shouted after me.

Luck! I scoffed. Why would I need luck if I was walking towards enlightenment?

CHAPTER 8

I could see my new vlog. It would be amazing. It could start when I got back from my spiritual awakening in the barren desert. Alone, under the sun, only the grasshoppers to keep me company. Instead of posting workouts in the gym, squatting in my new gym clothes and wearing the latest make-up, I would take photos of myself meditating and doing yoga at sunset. I would definitely go vegan, maybe even raw vegan. I would stop bleaching my hair, let it grow and embrace the curls. Maybe I would even add blue mermaid streaks to it and beads. I needed a new wardrobe for this, obviously. I couldn’t wear Adidas sports gear anymore, I needed something flowing, something that spoke to