There is something about a road trip that will make everything all better.
Ru and I went drove to Redding/Shingletown to do some stuff that needed to be done. On the way there we got Sonic slushies and sang at the top of our lungs as we passed through the quiet towns on the way back ‘home’.
‘home’ is a strange word. In the past few months I have been walking around my house with the ghosts of my past bumping into me around the corners. You can take pictures down and paint walls, but they are still there. We needed to face a few of those ghosts this weekend so we packed up Adventure Duck and headed out.
The trip was nice. We spent a few hours in a town she hadn’t been to in a million years and I bumped into a few old friends. One of them was a little sister of a guy I dated in high school. Her memories of the time her brother and I were together were so vivid. She said, “I thought for sure you two would get married and I would have you as a big sister!” Sadly, I don’t really have any memories of my time with her brother, but she gave me a big hug and said she missed me.
I asked how he was doing, trying to remember what he looked like. He’s married and has 5 kids and according to his sister, still looks great. *sigh* Well, I do have ONE memory…he was HOT! I hate it when time doesn’t make us ALL look a little haggard. Why is it that men get better looking?
That night we stayed at a hotel and drank an absurd amount of Captain Morgan and I told the story that Ru had been waiting a few days to hear about. We finally decided around 3 am it was time to call it an evening and save a few stories for the ride home.
The next morning was hard on me. Not because of the hangover, but because of a dream I had right before waking up. I’m always shocked by how during the day I can be so strong and push everything aside, yet at night when I dream…things I wish I could do and say come out so effortlessly. This time I was angry. I was throwing punches.
When I finally woke up, the tears came fast and Ru rubbed me as I sobbed, “Really? REALLY? Can this get any freaking harder? Do I have to see this shit when I sleep!?” I was angry all morning because I couldn’t control my dreams. “I will never be able to fall asleep next to someone because If this is how I wake up 5 out of the 7 days in a week, they are going to freak out!”
On the ride back to Sacramento, we would sit in silence; thinking about our own problems. Sometimes we would turn up the radio. We would softly talk to each other and when the words became too much, we would turn back on the radio really loud and sing with all that we had left in us.
Even with the tears we shared, I will remember most the laughing in the parking lot of the hotel as we downed a half a bottle of Captain Morgan each. The attempted pictures of hanging off the back of a fire truck while talking REALLY loudly about one of the firefighters and his “Porn Stache” and the hysterical drunken phone calls we, er..I made, on our way to McDonalds because she HAD to have french fries at 1am.
I’m going to get through all of this. Probably not as gracefully as I had hoped, but I will get through this. I’m just getting really tired of adding more ‘this’ to the shit I need to get ‘through’.