It was terrible. I was cut off by my poli. sci. class in the middle of writing it, so I completely forgot the reason I started writing it when I can back to it later. So I’m not proud of having an incoherent and pointless entry earlier today.
So let’s try this again.
Do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you need to do something? Not on a schedule or a calendar. No, but something totally random and impulsive.
I had one of those nights.
I needed to go return a rented movie to Mark’s Video, but on my way back to my house, I didn’t turn into my neighborhood. I didn’t know where I was going to go. I just called my mom to let her know I’d be a little while. I honestly had no plan to go anywhere. I just knew that I needed to drive somewhere.
And where I ended up driving didn’t make much sense at the time, but now it does. I drove back on 144th, turned left on Crescent Valley, and turned right after the large, brightly lit house and I just kept going. I hadn’t driven back there in two years. Two years ago I drove Kristine home many times from paste-up. And for the most part, they were all at night, commonly at about 2 a.m. But tonight it was about 10:30. I drove by her neighborhood. I drove by a doe on the side of the road, eating some grass. And I drove along all the winding roads. However, the weirdest part was that it was just as foggy as it used to be.
The first time I drove home from her house, I got lost. Or so I thought. I’d never driven back that far on Crescent Valley, and I had no fucking idea where I was going. So I just kept going.
And tonight, I honestly couldn’t remember where I was going either. So I got nervous. I got anxious and doubtful. And my heart started to beat faster. I thought I was lost again.
But something came back to me that told me that I would end up right where I needed to be. Where I’d been many times before.
As ridiculous as this seems, I think I took that drive to realize something. I realized it as I was driving home up Peacock Hill.
I didn’t know where I was. I was scared and nervous and doubtful about where I was going. But something inside my mind was telling me that I knew where I was going. It told me that I was going to end up somewhere familiar. I thought I was lost. But I wasn’t really lost. All of the anxiety and the doubt along the way didn’t matter, because I honestly wasn’t lost. I knew deep down that I would find my way back, and I knew exact how to get there. Whatever was at the end was the only thing that mattered, because I knew I would end up there, even though I was scared out of my mind getting there.
Not to sound overly wise and grandiose, but that’s really how I feel. And for some reason, my weird impulse to drive nowhere gave me a very reflective half-hour drive.
You should try it some time.
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