When you need to run like your life depends on it from South Florida, where do you go? Where is the furthest point that you can make it to without leaving the country? Washington State. And that's what I did. After most of my wares were in storage, I dropped off my aging cat in Virginia with my parents and headed west. This would be the first time that I hadn't taken her with me on a move. I didn't think she would make the drive. I had one heartbreaking conversation with the ex where he asked me to come home. The next day, he reneged via text and I was ready to roll, quite literally.
I have a dear, dear friend out there who was willing to take me under her wing and put ointment on my wounded soul. She and her husband separately and together contacted me and told me to get my keister in the car and come on out. Why the Hell not, right? So armed with my poor orchid plant and my clothes, I hit the ol' highway. Here is where my adventure really begins.
I took a week to drive from Northern, VA., to the Pac. N.W. At every state line I would send a text to my parents and loved ones so they could share in my journey and rejoice in every mile I drove the pain out of my empty soul.
Music was again my best friend and worst enemy. Through the farm lands of Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana, I let my heart cry. When there is nothing around you except rolling farms, beautiful music, open road and all of the hallways of your mind, you go into almost a trance. I love to drive. I love the constant and ever changing choreography of the vehicles, animals and environment that dance with you when you're cruising along the map.
In Indiana, I received my first setback in my healing. I got pulled over for speeding. This really shouldn't surprise me and it shouldn't be a big deal. Oh, but wait, this is me we're talking about. The girl with the worst car luck ever.
So here I am, somewhere around Indianapolis and I was going slightly over the speed limit. Thinking that this was going to be a quick ticket and back on the road, (with an ever more watchful eye on the speedometer, of coarse) I pull over and get the necessary documentation ready.
"Where ya heading?"
"Washington State"
"That's a long way off. What's out there?"
"A new life."
He takes my license and retreats to his cruiser.
He comes back a few minuets later.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but your license is suspended."
Wait, what?
"For what?"
I'm not even pretending to be nice at this point. My sanity his hanging by a thread so bare that I'm not sure I'm going to make it out of this one.
"I don't know. It didn't say."
Here is where I break my rule of 'never cry in front of cops.'
"I have to keep your license. "
I nod, sobbing.
"I have to give you a ticket for driving on a suspended"
I nod, sobbing.
"I can't let you drive anymore with no license."
I nod, sobbing.
"So since you are are so far from home and you have a long way to go, I'm going to get in my cruiser and drive away. I don't know how you're getting your car out of here."
He hands me the ticket and backs away from my window.
I sit there sobbing.
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