Driving in the rain

Nearly four hours in the car. Rain most of the time. Gray and dreary. Bad radio. Hair bands and country were my high school years. I still remember all the words to Garth's "Rodeo", but only most to Sabbath's "Paranoid". I zone out a lot. Memories like a collage, images without context.

The kitchen of one party I went to, don't know where or with whom, but I remember the kitchen. Last day of school one year, driving around listening to Girls, Girls, Girls and passing around a bottle of peach schnapps. Country songs I've never heard before make me wish someone would have broken out a guitar at the gravel pits.

How it felt to have a crush, to find out it was mutual, to think it was important, to learn it was not. You faded, but that feeling, it was memorable. No nostalgia for those days. No, that's not quite right. Nostalgia for the edited versions, where my small high school was quaint and friends were dear and teachers cared and everyone had dreams.

I had dreams. I am so glad I had those dreams, those ambitions. I didn't go where I thought I would, but trying to get there brought me to here.

Pull into the garage. Back to my life. Who I love, what I love, where I want to be.