I woke up early this morning for my last drive. I shouldn’t say last I guess, but last for awhile anyway. It may be A.D.D., but I get lost in thought so easily, especially when I drive. It’s probably not a good thing, but the times I am in my most creative state, my writer’s states, normally occur when I’m driving. I knew when I woke up at four this morning that this trip to Tampa would be my last for a long time. It may be years before I drive Interstate 75 again. The trip was oddly quiet. I listened to music of course, but I can’t really recall what it was I played. This is a strange feeling.
When I arrived in Tampa, I went to see Jake. (Insert shout out to Jakob) I hadn’t seen him since the wedding, though I think about him nearly every day. Although we didn’t really have much time to talk, it was good to see him. It refreshed my soul a bit. Those few people whom I truly consider my friends, like Jake, need nothing more from me than who I am. They are genuine, and unique, and I couldn’t really do without them. What is so important to me about these friends of mine is that no matter how long it has been since we’ve spoken or seen each other, we pick right back up where we were without the awkward getting to know you all over again period. Jake and I grabbed a coffee and talked New York (he seems to be my spiritual advisor on most things I’ve yet to experience, but are looming in the near future – has since high school). We discussed the city, her strengths, her weaknesses. I think I am ready to take the leap. Jake also told me that he has finished the first draft of a book on his train hopping trip he took a couple of summers ago. I have to say, I’m filled with a mixture of pride and jealousy. One of these days I will finish something I start. Maybe.
With caffeine flowing through my veins, I headed back to my parent’s house where my Mom and I planned their trip to NYC. Only a short time later, Stephanie’s parents called to say that they were right around the corner. We ran out the door to meet them down the road, and I forgot to say goodbye to my car. This may sound silly, and may sound redundant to those of you who have already heard the story twelve times, but I’m kind of sad to be leaving it behind. I know it’s just a car, but it’s kind of the last piece of me connecting myself to Florida and this pre-New York life that I had to give up. My Mom saw the look I gave it as I ran past, and she knew. She told me that through every move there was always this period of excitement, of this dream of a new and enticing place, but every time it came to that last week the days just seemed to tear at your heart minute by minute. That’s how it has been for me this last week. Saying goodbye all over again.
Tonight we played a rousing Rock Band concert. I thought you might enjoy some of the pictures.
