We drove into what looked like night, but was really the alias of early morning. Mom. Dad. Me. Silence.
The road glowed with reflector paint and signs, blackness enveloping everything else. Was I ready?
How, how on earth did I manage to leave my parents? The same people who wouldn't let me sleepover anyone's house until I was 10? Who wouldn't let me watch Spongebob until I was 13? How did I convince them? And, were they ready to let me go? Or would they ever be...
They love me. I know my parents love me. But now I feel I must venture off into the wild, into distant lands. To discover fiction and fact.
Who am I but a young woman using up my after-college savings for a plane ticket to California? Whose parents have offered up time and resources to help me accomplish the very thing that they dreaded.
I am 21. I graduated college and traveled to Thailand and India and now I'm moving to LA.
Will people think ill of me if I sniff my arm, because it smells like pumpkins?
I just boarded and put my carry on up all by myself, a feat I would like an award for. I am 29F right next to the little opening on the plane where they can attach luggage.
I witnessed the sweetest encounter between two workmen on the runway where the planes are parked. These two young guys- maybe older- they shook hands embraced and just had the most beautiful body language towards each other. It's clear they are good friends and I felt honored to witness it- not trying to steal a glimpse of their encounter but treasure it. I hope they would feel glad to know that they made my morning.
In a way, maybe it was my last hug from Maryland. Maybe it knew all along I'd only return as a visitor one day.