Unsuspecting Dreamer

Chapter 5 Getting Somewhere

I stop at the Diner on the way out of town. My brand new mini van is fully stocked and loaded down with my cloths and few other material items. Debora, my replacement waitress, seats me. I order a cup of coffee to go and a whole apple pie. It's taken me until the end of April, but all of my loose ends are tied up. Nothing is left for me here, and with any luck I will never have to come back ever again. I take out my road map; the folds have already worn thin from all of the refolding.

I have my route carefully marked. I'm going to travel the country, and put my roots down wherever it feels right. I am going to Mt. Rushmore; Seattle; California; Colorado; the Grand Canyon; Florida; Nashville, Tennessee; New York; and a bunch of places on the east coast.

This is the biggest thing I have ever done in my entire 21 years. And here I am, on the edge of an ending and a beginning. I am scared, I am excited.

"You are going to all of those places!?" Debora asks, setting my travel mug and box of pie on the table.

"Yep," I announce, sitting back and taking in my future, all shown on this giant map.

"Cool, you are so lucky!"

I am in total agreement. Again I silently thank my mom for giving me this chance. She told me to fly, and gave me the chance to spread my wings. I fold up the map and slide it into my backpack, which is full of notebooks and other writing materials. "Bye," I wave at Debora, walking toward the door.

A customer calls and Debora waves back, turning in the direction of the table. I cross the still snow and ice packed parking lot and start up my engine. I let the vehicle warm up. Turning on my radio and GPS, I then unwrap the new CD's I bought. Among them I pay close attention to the new Dan + Shay album, and Hunter Hayes' "Storyline." I feed them into my 6 CD holding radio.

I have a moment of pause once I reach the exit for Interstate 35. I am ready. I am strong. I double check how far I have to go until I head west. 'Okay,' I think to myself, 'here I go'

About an hour into my drive the song 'Invisible' comes on over the speakers. I don't know the words well enough to sing along. I've only heard it a few times on the radio.

I will forever remember the first time I heard it, though. Right after I found out about my mom's secret bank account, I went home and thought deeply about what it would mean for my life. I turned my kitchen radio on and finished the small amount of chores I had left. I headed into the bathroom to get cleaned up and I was shocked at what I saw in the mirror.

Dark circles rung around my eyes, which were hollow and sunken in. My skin looked almost transparent. In the numbness I felt a twinge of something that might have been hunger. I tried to remember the last time I ate. I couldn't. Maybe 2 weeks since I actually ate a real meal, I guessed.

At that moment I heard a voice that registered through my shock, only because I knew the voice. I walked into the kitchen to find out who it was.

🎶
"And you've been trying for so long
To find out where your place is
But in their narrow minds
There's no room for anyone who dares to do something different
Oh, but listen for a minute"
🎶

I allowed myself a small smile. It was Hunter. He was telling me to eat. It never seemed like he was on the radio when I listened to it, and now there he was, drawing me into the kitchen. I ignored how crazy my thoughts sounded and instead listened to the words while I dug a package of crackers out of the pantry.

🎶
"Trust the one
Who's been where you are wishing all it was
Was sticks and stones
Those words cut deep but they don't mean you're all alone
And you're not invisible
Hear me out,
There's so much more to life than what you're feeling now
Someday you'll look back on all these days
And all this pain is gonna be invisible"
🎶

It felt as if he was speaking directly to me, telling me that I could get past this. My life could get better. In fact, I could make it into anything I wanted.

I listened as he continued singing, but I felt rather than heard his words. I walked around, checking my food supply. Or rather lack of it. I started adding to my grocery list, which was next to my dream list, next to my wish list, next to my 5 year plan list. Basically, my fridge was covered in lists. It was something I started over the past year to keep me sane throughout everything.

'Travel the United States,' jumped right out at me. For the first time I thought, 'I could do that!' On several other lists I saw 'move away.' 'I could do that too!' I was suddenly excited, now with a different hunger rumbling- not just for food but also for life. I took out a notebook and started writing. I had a lot of planning to do.

As 'Invisible' ends on my car's speakers, my mind wanders back to the road.

Hours pass. I connect on so many levels with 'Nothing Like Starting Over' and I blast 'Let It Hurt' by Rascal Flatts.

Since sleeping in the van isn't my first choice, I find a motel around eight, just an hour away from Mt. Rushmore, my first destination. I eat in a small, greasy-spoon restaurant and sit back, marveling at how easy it is to be in a place like this, now that I don't have to work in one. I see the appeal, no late night shifts for me, no more getting hit on by bar bums and or harassed by crude truck drivers.

I fall asleep that night with a smile on my face.

-----

Single person selfies at Mt. Rushmore is definitely a rarity but I don't care, I am free. I sit, watching the families and groups of friends milling around, avoiding me. I don't blame them, since I'm just a strange girl sitting alone on a rock wall, starring at everyone and scribbling in a notebook.

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I reach Seattle on May 8th, traveling as slow as I please. I have 9 days of sightseeing and driving behind me. I found a lot of cool little towns. I haven't been anywhere I have wanted to settle down, but I haven't traveled very far and once I stop I may never start again.

Seattle is a beautiful and busy place. I decide to stay a few weeks, sitting in hipster coffee shops, touring art galleries. I will be moving on though. I don't get close to anyone, and for 2 weeks the only contact I have with others is small talk. I seep in the culture. Taking it in and breathing it out through the written word. In those 2 weeks I experience more inspiring ideas than I have ever had before in my entire life!

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May 23d sees me driving towards the boarder of rainy Washington and down the coast taking the back roads. To California, rolling the windows down, letting the salty air wash over me, singing along with the radio. Each day sunnier. Each day a little brighter.