Cruising down a familiar route on a sunny Saturday spring evening, rushing to a familiar area.
Most of the times I've gone this route I was in a rush. Either rushing to a place that feels most like home, or rushing back to my real so-called home.
Rushing...because I wanted to spend more time at my haven...or because I've spent too much time at my haven, and need to play my role, and get back to where I should be.
I've always sped down this route, because the layout makes you so inclined. A 60 zone, but it seems I always get up to 80 or 90. Until I reach the downhill, and remember a voice.
The voice has saved me many times.
I almost forgot how heart-wrenching and suffocating this journey has become. Is it my body being weak today? Or the flashbacks that give me this S.O.B. feeling?
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