It's Tuesday and we're drinking a Bloody Mary at a bar in Denver International Airport waiting to board our flight home. She says, as we're watching the tarmac for incoming planes, "Man, this state is flat."
And I say, "I can drink to that." And we do.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
I've watched him dance his way through crowded bars with strangers who became friends, who turned into best friends. All before dawn, I have become enthralled and grown tired of these very same people. He's promising a lifetime of passion and adventure, all the while knowing there's nothing he enjoys more than falling asleep with an entire bed to himself.
My legs have been dragged across 365 miles of highway that I don’t remember until I’m back with my foot against the accelerator.
I still don't know where the journey and destination came into question- but it's clear that one would not survive without the other.
I went because I was invited, because I was scared more of going back than going anywhere else. The same feeling that five years early pushed me west had pushed me south. And when I think back now at the options I agonized over then, I take comfort in knowing that so far, all decisions have led to a good life- to the good life.