I drove until I found some fields. Until I could see the sky and hear the cicadas. All I needed was some beauty, something real. I just listened to music, sang, drove. Stopped to pick some sunflowers from the side of the road. Maybe that's illegal? I don't know. I didn't get in trouble.
I thought a lot about home. How I miss those roads. Some part of me longs to back, and some part of me doesn't want to. Some part of me wants to say goodbye to everything, forever. I miss...something. Something that hasn't happened yet.
I'm moving, in a week and a half, to a brand new town. I only know a few people there, and, honestly, I probably won't see them much. Brand new people. I know there'll be uncanny connections that make me feel like I can't go far enough away. And yet, everything's behind me. I'm moving, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It's the best feeling I've ever felt, I think.
My need for change, for spontenaity, kind of scares me a little. I just finished my last adventure, just a few weeks ago, and I'm ready for a new one. Maybe, since the last year of my life has been so - changy - I can convince myself that settling down for a while is an adventure in itself? Sure. I can live with that.
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