80 East over the Mississippi. A stack of CDs on the passenger seat, holding down a ripped out sheet of notebook paper with my directions written down. 80 to 88 to 39 to 43 to 894 to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. In two hours I will check another state off my list. I am 27 and counting.
I remember what joy feels like. All the little disappointments, the boys I tried for and missed, they fall away. They never mattered in the first place. None of them felt like this. I want someone to be this road, right now, this sun and sky and music on the CD player. I am flinging myself across state lines and singing loudly and raucously and THIS is what I want, THIS is what I am worth.