1.1.4 Longings R.D.

"On nights like this, I could drive forever."
"What's wrong?"
Nothing.  That's the point, don't you see?  Nights like this, seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit, clear air, no sun, and a soft breeze - they make me long for something more.  Not out of envy or anger, out of bliss.  I could drive to the ocean, or to the Wast Coast, or to Washington.  I could explore and stand on two state borders.  I could visit new places and meet new people.  Who knows?!  Nights like this make all of that seem possible.
I don't even feel guilty.  I don't think about mom being left alone, or my friends being mad at me, or how much would gas cost, or would my car survive the trip.  I don't think about job security - you can get a job anywhere.  And so what if my phone dies and I don't have a charger and my stuff all gets sold at auction.  Where I'm going, people won't know me and I won't have their opinions of my past haunting me so I don't need the memorabilia or the nostalgia.
So anything you want you can keep.  Besides, four of you have keys, so go ahead, keep the place clean, would ya'?  Rent is due on the first.  Between you it'd only be about one-hundred dollars each, so go ahead and have at it.  I'll let you know if I'm coming back through to visit more local attractions, although I doubt it.  Don't think too hard on the "why", the night inspired me and fueled my longing, so I just kept on the freeway like I had started.  I'll make due, and so will you.  Worse things have come between us than distance.  We've had fights and boys and life.  So we'll make it through this, too.  Hell, we almost drowned once, and yet here we are.  Don't mind the miles they're just minor roadblocks.  I just needed some time to soothe my soul, but once it's done I'll come back home.  You know I don't want to miss the homecoming game and all that.  I still have some pride in this small town we call home, so don't worry.