You are here.

Self-discovery.

It.

The sky, I mean. 

It was dusk again.

Twilight. 

The subtle blue tinges washed across the horizon. Deep pockets of burgundy and gold faded from the west. 

The sun shone dimly until the stars appeared slowly, one by one, awoken by the calling of night.

It always this time, I thought. 

The time when the flower blooms closed. The time when headlights disrupted the shadows. The time when the sparrows ceased their cries.

The reflection of the waning crescent, hanging high in the sky, bounced across the windshield. 

I don’t know where I’m going, I thought.

I held tight to the faded, torn map of the west coast, unaware that the words were slowly dissolving under my nervous palms.

I drove along the highway, a cigarette here, a cigarette there. Lonely embers flicked onto barren roads.

A bottle of wine sat in the hatchback. In case of an emergency, I thought. 

The radio stations quickly turned to static, the air rushing through the windows smelled of burning wood.

A sky that once appeared watercolored had quickly turned into an abyss of blackness.

My hands clutched the wheel like a newborn to his mother, but they wouldn’t stop shaking.

Where am I going?

I flicked the high beams on, which only fictionalized the light I was seeking. The solid white lines seemed to glow in the light’s path, which only gave contrast to the sombre surrounding.

The knot in my stomach grew larger and larger, and I felt more self-hatred with every tensed muscle. 

I rammed my foot on the clutch and threw the car into third gear, then fourth. I wove in and out of the empty lanes trying to shake the feeling of desperation.

The faster I went, the more whole I felt. The unbelievable lightness of passiveness.

The fragments of who I was, or who I used to be crept up on me like a ghost.

My hair whipped violently with the wind.

My hand reached out of the open window and released the map I held so dearly. 

I let it go.

I let you go.

The smell of your skin, the color of your eyes, the comfort of your arms.

I let it all go.

I let my foot ease onto the brakes, and I pulled over onto the side of the road.

Tiptoeing to the truck, grabbing the wine, prying at the cork with my teeth.

Breaking a bad habit.

I screamed at the sky, and deliberated with the stars.

Who am I?

Where am I going?

The stars only winked in response.

You are who you’ve always been.

You are where you’ve always been.