Waiting: Chapter Two: The Highway

So I wake up the next day, roll out of bed, and grab a cigarette. I usually did this every morning in an attempt to think over what happened the previous day and make sense of it all. If I had a bad day, that was. After good days, I would just smoke the cigarette without thinking. Sometimes, as much as my self-described “intellectual” self hates to say this, not thinking was awesome. A great relief. I always liked to say ignorance is bliss. Just look at Adam and Eve. But anyways, I thought about everything I had thought about the previous day. Cindy, getting away, all this waiting that was never ending. And that was when I decided, for the second time, the time I wasn't stoned, that I was going to leave. I went to grab a suitcase in the basement. I'd tell my parents I was going to see Cindy, they'd never guess she hadn't actually revealed where she was going. In fact, I never discussed anything like that with my parents regardless so they'd have no questions. But what about my job?

“Oh well, fuck my job,” I remember thinking, “I can just find another one. Always can.”

So that was it. I was leaving. I had never flown before and completely hated the idea of taking a plane, so I went with 'Hey, why don't I just drive?'. It just gave the whole adventurous, quest thing a better feel at the time. Plus, yeah you guessed, it was a fuck of a lot cheaper. I bet you're saying it's lame that I referred to what I was about to embark on as a quest, but I don't give a fuck. It was a quest, a hunt, whatever you want to call it. I don't exactly know what it was for, but it was for something. Now your saying what about Cindy? Cindy, yeah she was a large part, but that was only part of the whole thing. It was time for me to really learn. Learn about everything. Everything. I was flying away from the nest. It happens to everyone one day. If it hasn't happened to you reading this yet, just wait. Just wait. Remember: I never lie.

I hugged and kissed my parents goodbye, told them I would see them in a couple of days. What a lie. I would be seeing them, or at least talking to them, relatively soon though. Like I said, I love my parents. But it was my time. Time for me to fly and let my wings loose. I couldn't wait to jump in the deep end off the highest diving board. This was going to be great. I really wanted to get my hands dirty this time. Then I walked out of the door. When I would be back, I didn't know. I didn't care. It was time.

I jumped in my car and headed for the highway. I had a carton of cigarettes, at least ten grams of pot, and a shit load of books. Plus an ATM card. How could I forget that? I couldn't believe I was doing this.

Three days passed. I didn't sleep once. After you don't sleep for three days, things start to get a little different, a little weird. I had yet to touch my stash of pot after coming to the realization that I no longer had a drug connection. That meant I couldn't get any more pot after I smoked all of the pot I currently had. But that was the least of my worries. I didn't have any food either. I forgot to add that: I didn't eat in three days on top of not sleeping. This was new.
“I'll be fine,” I kept saying to myself, “I'll be fine.”

Another day passed. I decided it was time for sleep. I was making a lot of mistakes on the road. I didn't want to lose my whole life here. I definitely didn't want that. I pulled into a parking lot, a rather dark one at that, put the seat as far back as it would go and slept. I slept for a long time, but woke up the following day without a problem. I stopped at a grocery store and picked up some food. A lot of food. It would last at least the next three days.

“Three days. That's awhile, right?” I said to myself.

I drove back to the highway. “Time to keep going,” I said, “but where?”. That question I didn't have the answer for. She said the west. The fucking west. That was a huge fucking clue, right? “Shit,” I started thinking, “she might not even be in the fucking country anymore!”. This was a mistake. What the hell was I doing? I couldn't last another month like this. I had to go back. I had to. I almost turned around. But then I caught myself. And slapped myself hard. “Keep going,” I said “keep fucking going!”.

“This was going to be a long trip,” I remember thinking “but one hell of a trip, one hell of a fucking trip!”

I didn't stop driving for another three days.