I’ve
cried alone in cars more time than I can count, on the highway while I try to
escape from life and I didn’t want to go home. I would get behind the wheel
driving hours throughout the night to escape the latest thing I was running
from. There has always been the comfort
of being alone in the car.
I
sometimes feel that I needed to run away from life, from all the things life
has thrown on me and I never have had someone in this lifetime that I could cry
to; and there comes a time where it just break. I’d break out the tears alone
and there is something to be said about the quiet solace of that driver’s seat.
There is both comfort and possibility. It let me escape life in so many ways,
there is so much possibility that lies behind the wheel, when sitting there,
working through the wreckage of my latest storm, the control is all mine.
In
those moments, when it feels that the world is closing down on me, it’s that
tiny bit of freedom that I could feel. It holds me in place, giving me time to
remember my strength, to remind me that I don’t have to keep running, that I’d
somehow reach a destination and whether or not it’s an intersection or a
destination, it’s my choice.
It
reminds me who I am and what I am capable of. And out of life chaotic moment, I
can find a little peacefulness, a little me in that small space.