I arrive at the gym and run around the track at least thirty times as the need for sanity drives me to run longer, faster. After some time, my body starts shutting down, telling me it can go forward no longer. So I slip my arms into my jacket, slowly zip it up, and with music still in my ears I walk outside into the breathtaking cold and unlock my car to drive home. I drive past our house and Taylor's car is nowhere to be found. He's still at work. I can't go home. Not yet. I'm not ready to face the silence that is so loud it feels deafening. I'm not ready to roam the halls of our home knowing I really have nowhere to be. So I keep driving. I drive for half an hour in one direction to nowhere, with no destination. I listen to my music as loud as it will go and I refuse to turn on my cruise control because this time I am the one who decides. I will go 20 miles over the speed limit when I feel like it and I will drive 30 under if the mood strikes. This is where I have control. I determine how fast or slow I will go. It's me.
I'm reminded of all the times in the past when my car served as my sanctuary. I went on drives when I didn't know how else to handle the problem I was currently facing and at the end of my drive I never had a solution but somehow it offered me the solace and peace I was looking for. The road was there for me when I moved to Utah and had zero dollars and I wasn't sure how I would eat the next day. It was there for me when I moved to Idaho for school and everyone there was at least 5-6 years younger than me and I wasn't sure how I would last for a whole year. And it's here for me now when I feel so lost and wonder what I'm supposed to do next.
And aren't all those feelings supposed to disappear when you get married? Isn't life supposed to be all figured out because now you have a husband who will care for you, love you, and provide for you? And he does, you know. He does all of those things. And more. But somewhere in the innermost parts of my heart is something tugging at me, telling me that there is more for me to do. Something I am supposed to discover about me. But what is it? And how am I supposed to find it in this small little town where no one knows my name, and I'm not kidding when I say I may resort to McDonald's for a job just to fight the feelings of non-productivity that consume my soul when Taylor is gone at work and I home alone all day long.
And what does this mean? My being here. What am I supposed to discover about myself? Because I'm not really sure. And discovering yourself can be hard and it can sometimes be filled with tear-filled days and, well, who knows how to do it anyway?
And I want to be strong but I feel so weak, and I don't understand why this part of my journey is so retardedly hard for me.
And when I return home from the drive that usually makes me feel better, I realize that I don't really feel much better then when the drive began.
But then, oh but then, I open the door to our house and there is Taylor sitting on the couch, waiting for me. And I try to be strong because I don't want him to see me cry for the millionth time that week and so in an attempt to collect my thoughts, I go into the kitchen where I pretend I'm thirsty and I tell myself that I'm stronger than this. But he sees right through me and follows me in. He embraces me in a hug that makes me immediately begin to cry on his shoulder. And he doesn't have to ask what's wrong because he already knows. And there we remain for the next 20 minutes. My head against his shoulder, me crying, and neither of us exchanging a word.
And when I finish wallowing in my self-pity, I lift my tear-streaked face, look up at him, and we laugh because, how many times is this whole crying thing going to happen? And it's then that I realize that this time is so much different than all the other times that change was so hard for me, and discovering the next step was so desperately difficult because, well, this time... this time, I get to do it with him.
And this time, I'm not alone...and that, is so much better than the last time(s).