The Road Trip

The hills along the highway flow like the tide. Gentle and undulating. The headlights give them shapes and contours, making them soft against the sky. Inside, my thoughts crash over me like waves against rocks, powerful and unyielding. The bikes on the roof chatter with the gusting wind. This is a long way to drive when you have too much to think about. The song in the background reminds me of the past months. Maybe giving them some context I couldn’t see before.

The ease of your pose
The grace of your silhouette
The way that your shoulders meet your slender neck
Where would we be without all the distance…


I instinctively look at my phone. Expectant. Hesitant. The notification light is flashing in the dark. My heart is beating. It’s beating like it’s lonely. It’s beating like there’s nothing else inside of me.


…You know I’m already just a skeleton

I don’t have the heart to match
The one pricked into your finger
Of things made to be destroyed
All moments meant to pass


I am tired and worn. It has been a hard Winter. My heart is still beating. In the seconds between breaths, it is the only thing moving in the car.

Don’t want to live without teeth
Don’t want to die without bite
Never wanna say that I regret it
Never wanna say that we grew apart…


I have found the important things in my life come with a fair amount of risk. When something is your favourite, it’s almost impossible not to want to go for it. Risk is something that has to be accepted for something exceptional. The possibility of getting hurt is something you have to make peace with in return for the truly extraordinary.


Therein lies the problem. Hurt takes to me like water to paper. A single drop spreads and penetrates into every fibre. It makes me fragile and heavy. But I don’t know any other way to be. My heart demands it of me. To miss out on something really great  because of fear or doubt is no way to live.


…I never wanna say that the feeling’s changed

I don’t have the heart to match
the one pricked into your finger
Of things made to be destroyed
All moments meant to pass


The city blurs from over the hills in the early morning light. My future is in front of me now. Half remembered, half imminent. I have choices waiting for me back home. Being on the edge between not wanting to let go and not wanting to get hurt is not a great place to be. It’s hard to tell the difference between what I want to do and what I should do. They both feel profoundly unsatisfying. I know what I’m missing isn’t skill or talent, but rather the resolve to forge ahead, whatever I might lose.


…no more troubled sleep, there’s a brave new world that’s raging inside of me

I don’t have the heart to match
The one pricked into your finger
This too will soon slip out of reach
This too will soon come to an end


The din of the crowded street mixes with the song’s lyrics still in my head. They’re about the impermanence of form, the impermanence of things. But they’re also about fighting for the people, and the things, that are important to you while still being true to yourself. I wonder if it’s always possible to do both. I wonder which one I will choose in the end.


I wonder where we would be without all the distance.

*the song FUCKMYLIFE666 by Against Me! is a freakin’ anthem! There’s also an acoustic version.

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