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trips

I used to wake you up so early to drive to the beach on random days. We'd both call in sick while on the road - you to the office and me to the publication company - and take the entire day off in the sun. You hated lying, but you would never tell me 'no' because you loved the trips just as much as I did. We'd usually have to take your truck, so I would throw our backpacks in the back the night before, and then wake you up at the crack of dawn to immediately pull you downstairs after a bathroom break and breakfast - which was usually just a Pop Tart, then - to start driving. It didn't take very long to get to the beach, but at the same time, I wanted to spend as much time as humanly possible there, and it's not like I exactly knew when I'd get the chance to go again.

I think my love for road trips quickly rubbed off on you, especially since there was nothing in the city where we lived. The only way for us to get a good date was to take about an hour road trip somewhere else. That place was usually the beach. It was about a hour and half away, so it wasn't too far, but it also wasn't convenient. I don't think I can actually say that we savored every minute because realistically, we once spent probably a hour throwing wads of wet sand at each other.

There were other times where we would go and sit for hours in the sand and waves, drawing stupid pictures in the sand and building the worst sandcastles. We would have our own competition on who could build the best castle, but we would usually just end up destroying each other's when we criticized it. I remember chasing seagulls for our keys and annoying other people there, whether that was on purpose or accident.

The beach wasn't the only place that we used to go. I would drive for hours to take you to different zoos. You would always call it childish and make fun of me for it, but I know that you loved it too. You would look up weird animal facts in the car to tell me when we were there. I even caught you once with some of them written on your hand when we weren't completely together because you thought it would impress me. I thought it was absolutely adorable, though.

You also thought that my infatuation with museums was kind of childish. I take more of a claim to that one because I would drag you to the kiddiest museums and make you do the weird hands-on activities with me. I could make fun of you for hours about how happy it actually made you to do those. You insisted that it didn't, but it most definitely did.

You did like art museums, but obviously there aren't as many close to us as the others. It surprised me that I majored in philosophy but preferred museums full of science, while you majored in biology but preferred art museums. I didn't minor in art, but I was forced to study it in high school so I knew some scattered information about different artists or art styles. You knew so much about science, and you loved showing that off. You would do the same thing as I would in museums, except you were a lot more vocal than I was. I still remember when you embarrassed that poor tour guide by showing her up on literally everything she said.

I guess I have some kind of nostalgic feel for zoos and museums that you didn't have. You never actually wanted to go to them, but you would always say that it was worth it because of how I reacted.

"You looked so happy today." You mumbled as you started driving us towards home. You had taken over driving since I drove there. One of your hands held mine tightly in my lap, and you smiled at me as soon as we got to a red light. "You're such a child." I laughed with you, knowing that you were kidding because we had this conversation often.

"Your eyes always light up, and you actually smile over something that isn't me." You kissed my hand before the light changed, and you had to start driving again. I felt myself smile and I knew what you meant.

There were those rare trips that took longer than others, where we never had a destination. We would drive anywhere we felt like it, switching drivers whenever one of us got tired of driving. We'd play music too loud with the windows rolled down.

Sometimes we would struggle with trying to find somewhere to stay some nights when neither of us wanted to drive. We never had any plans which meant that we usually ended up in a Motel 6. It never actually phased us, though. The rooms were messy and sometimes even disgusting. We would lay on the small bed that was definitely not made for two people and count cracks in the ceiling or tears in the ugly, stained wallpaper. If we were truly unlucky, we would spend most of the night trying to kill cockroaches.

But, hey, I was with and you were with me and that's what mattered most, right?

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