“I’m moving to Jackson”.
Four words uttered under my breath in hushed, revered tones upon hanging up the phone.
Sometimes you don’t realize how ready you were to move until after the fact.
Sure, there have been prior attempts to flee, but this one will endure.
It takes 20/20 hindsight vision to see the daily warnings; all treated with an agnostic point of view.
It’s a liberating feeling to leave all accumulated baggage at the state line.
Thanks but no thanks; you could have all the gossip and rumors.
I’m sure another scandal is right around the corner to keep all briefly entertained.
The all too familiar U-Haul truck parked in front and full, a symbol of adventure and new beginnings.
“Come on girls, let’s go to Jackson”.
The flood of memories was so overwhelming and thought-provoking a small tear welled up.
Machismo being what it is, the moisture had a brief shelf life before dispersing into my sleeve.
Some may have dreaded the prospect of the drawn-out drive.
I made the conscious decision to enjoy the 9+ hours.
I embraced the flood of memories as they passed through my mind in a kaleidoscope-esque slideshow.
I never forgot to smile.
Feel the excitement surge through your veins as you get closer and closer.
Feel the anticipation clench itself in your stomach.
Never dread the journey, treasure it as something special, because it is.
