Where Are You Going

I'm sitting on the couch, I look over at the t.v., walkers are coming. Look down at my phone, no texts and I already caught up on all of my social media. Slide my eyes upward slightly, look at my brother through my hair so he wont notice me. He doesn't notice me. Back at my phone, back at the t.v. Grab the blanket next to me, cover my torso with it, I'm not cold though. Shift my left foot onto my right foot where they lay across the ottoman. Check my phone. Nothing. Brother is grossed out by what is on the television screen, I smile. Brother gets up, he doesn't want to be grossed out. I tell him they wont show it all, he relaxes as he tops up his drink. He sits down as the screen gets gorier, lets out a grossed out noise and looks at me, I laugh. Oops. Eyes back on the t.v., then my phone, I sigh, text my friend. Put my phone down. Phone lights up, friend says come over. I ask brother if he will be okay to keep watching alone, he scoffs at me and says yes. He's tough.

I climb into my vehicle, turn my heated seat on, grab my phone. What do I want to listen to? What mood am I in? Scroll to the bottom of my list, I choose something softer.I get to my friends house and we watch a show. We laugh, we joke, the time spent is good. The show is over, I get restless, I tell her I should go home to sleep. I intend to. I climb back into my vehicle, turn my heated seat on, grab my phone. I choose something vocally straining and I sing along. I want my throat to scratch and hurt, I want to be raspy.

I'm driving along the streets, not thinking, just moving on instinct. Turn right, stop. Turn left, stop. Accelerate, stop. Turn my head to the right and look toward a dark street. I want that one, turn right. Nobody is behind me, I creep down the street slowly as I think about how this is unlike me. I like speed, I like to be fast, I like to get where I'm going. But where am I going? Why am I here? Why am I going so slow? The dark street takes me to a longer darker street, I continue at my slow pace. Stop sign. I look left toward a dark field and it hits me. I let it wash over and consume me, just keep driving, just do it. Don't stop and don't look back, you can be free. Des please just do it. Please.

I could do it this time you know. I have the funds and the resources, I could do it. But what about your responsibilities? Can't I be reckless? Just this one time? But what would people say? I don't care anymore, they can think what they want. What about your job? Yes, my job... but I could do it you know. I could. I think about speeding down the highway toward the border, getting there as fast as I can so I can shed everything that is normal to me. I don't like my normal right now, I want a different normal. I want fresh. I want freedom. Freedom from myself mostly. I picture ripping through my own skin and stepping out a new person. Maybe distance will allow myself to do that. Maybe. Or it could all stay the same. Maybe its time away that I crave, just for clarity. Maybe my situation doesn't need to change but my frame of mind does.

Now I picture speeding down the highway in the opposite direction, toward the airport. I could hop on a plane and go anywhere, my first thought is Alabama. Why Alabama? Who knows. I picture a smile on my face and a weight being lifted. I want it. I can feel it. I can taste it. But I can't have it. Because this is real life, and in real life you can't just take off. Not me anyway.

(This is actually a photo from Alabama)