Northbound

My heart was pounding so loud I couldn't hear anything else and I couldn't breath.  I had to keep driving.  There were things I needed to take care of and I had put them off as long as I could.

Things Philadelphia has taught me: "one way" signs are suggestions so look both ways before crossing that one way street, traffic lights are optional especially when making a left off of Broad St, and sidewalks and center turn lanes can both be used as travel lanes or parking spots depending on what you need them to be. 

2553 miles to Barstow, CA

But I am not headed west.  I am going north.

I knew this would be happening for the past year.  It was just the details that I was unsure of.  Now everything is falling into place.

By the time I saw the "Leaving Cape Fear River Basin" sign I had a headache.  My heart didn't calm down until Goldsboro, NC.  Tori sang me songs of betrayal that I could no longer relate to but her songs of adventure sat nicely in the passenger seat.  Fear sat quietly in the backseat not making a sound.

Signs kept teasing me to turn around and head back.  Showing me all the roads that could take me to the place I started.  I fought the urge.  North.  About 6 hours to go.

I made it to the NC/VA border, to Roanoke Rapids, before I had to stop for gas and snacks.  By that point my breathing was normal and my insides were numb.  I can do this.  I was about to pull the rug out from underneath a whole lot of people who mean the world to me.  I couldn't find a care anywhere in me.  Even the love I had felt earlier that day and for weeks prior couldn't be found in that moment.  I gnawed on some turkey jerky and washed it down with Lipton Green Iced Tea.  I felt absolutely nothing.  Key back in the ignition, cranked the engine, and allowed autopilot to steer.  She went north.  It required no thought, no backlash, no explanation.

By the time I hit Richmond my backseat friend had moved from the passenger side to the center.  I could see the tips of his sticky-upy hairs in my rear view.  I ignored him and wished he would put his seatbelt on and leave me be.  He leaned over the center console and a wicked little grin lit up his face and I felt his hand brush my shoulder.  The rocks in my stomach moved around a bit and everything that had been falling into place sprayed up in the air and filled my car with dread.  North was suddenly the only direction to go.  I hit the gas.

Philadelphia healed me over the years.  It brought me home, taught me what home was, not a geographic location but a frame of mind.  It showed me who my true friends are and what the "job" of a friend is.  I learned the difference between freedom and indifference.  Love had become my best friend over the past 13 years though I still struggle with forgiveness.

Highland, MD couldn't come fast enough.  I stopped at the Twist 'n Turn and met up with a friend.  Just an hour and then I'd hit the road again.  Just one beer..... and some fries.... and 2 more beers.  Three hours later we headed back to his house, he opened the garage to his multiple bike projects carefully explained each.  I nodded and smiled pretending to understand.  For a moment I was whisked back to New Years Eve in that same garage staring at the same dismantled Harley.  It was colder then.  Much colder.

I hopped back in my car and reached into my glove box for the Monster I had stored in there over a week ago.  The first few vile sips stung my tongue with super sweet and poked me into post too-far-from-home gig mode.  130 miles to go nearly 12 hours after I left the house this afternoon.  Luckily, this is a drive I've made many times, several with very little to no sleep.  Philadelphia loomed ahead. 

By 3 am I cozied into my bed.  Alone.  Exhausted.  No longer numb or anxiety ridden and once again ready to take on the task at hand.