Today is the day.
My last day in California for 5 weeks. I’m sitting on my bed looking out my window and around my room imagining what it’s going to be like to be gone for so long. I also wonder what it’s going to be like to come back.
I can’t wait to be on the road absorbing new things and seeing different people and the feeling of passing over space and earth and seeing stars I’ve never seen and hearing accents I’ve never heard.
I can’t wait to see the Grand Canyon and the feeling of how vast the earth is.
I can’t wait to climb the Rocky Mountains and drive through the Great Plains and see the lightening storms and smell Colorado again.
I can’t wait to drive through the high desert and see the great divide in Taos. I can’t wait to see all my familiar faces in Santa Fe and breathe the thinnest air.
I can’t wait to drive all through the night in the heat of the desert and make it up to 130 mph and howl to the moon because we’re kids alone on the highway and we have no bedtime or obligations in the morning and were still kids, just kids so fuck it lets howl and scream in the night.
I can’t wait to get to Austin and see the bat bridge and all the art and the heat and the accents.
I can’t wait to get to New Orleans and break in to the graveyards at night and walk around bourbon street again and see the ancient houses in the French quarter and oh god most of all eat the food and drink the wine.
I can’t wait to drive through the south and stop at little country stores and talk about life on opposite sides of a huge country.
I can’t wait to get to dc and feel the importance of everyday life there. I can’t wait to see our country’s monuments and walk the streets that some of the most powerful people walked for change and equality.
New York. Whatever could I say about New York that hasn’t already been regurgitated. New York, I just want to make sure you exist. I just want to make sure that you aren’t the figment of a starved culture. New York, New York, we’re coming.
The drive east. Indiana, Chicago, Detroit, South Dakota. It’s not that I don’t want to see you. I do! It’s just the drive that matters to me. You’re the only thing standing in between me and my west coast. That’s a dangerous place to be.
Seattle. I’m finally coming back. We didn’t have much to say to each other last time I saw you. I was young and sad and you were unapologetic. But you’ve always been in my heart. A damp place that looks like the sound when the sun just breaks the clouds for a second on a windy day. I can’t wait to see you again.
Portland, you sneaky bastard. You just have a way of claiming people. They arrive, fully prepared to love or hate you, and then you get them lost for hours and show them your deepest corners full of people with easy, witty smiles and then you send them on their way, feeling like they can’t be anywhere else and enjoy themselves near as much.
Twenty-six hours and thirty-one minutes left.
Good bye California.