The times when I feel free:
Driving on a lonely, dark road in the middle of the night. Just me, my music and the road ahead of me. That one song playing that makes my heart ache so that I have never been so aware of my own pulse before. The wind enticing my hair to be wild and tangled. The quiet, the loneliness, the complete and utter thrill of it is too beautiful.
Being alone on a wooded path, a storm blowing in. Seeing the dark, water soaked clouds soaring above; preparing for a raging battle. The cold, wet wind pushing my hair away from my face and causing my shirt to ripple against my body. Gusts of wind trying to push me over. The smell of rain so intoxicating that my skin begins to prickle for the feeling of it.
The quiet morning, packing up the car to drive somewhere. Map in one hand, coffee in another, sunglasses protecting my dark-accustomed eyes from the first, soft touches of sunlight. Cuddled up with my pillow and snacks, greeting the open road sleepily.
Telling stories of my childhood. The strange and beautiful things that we saw from the forest; the way the sun made us brown and the thorns striped our skin red. The heat and the cold and the bonfires and the treehouse. The way my friend said that our house was like a castle and an escape from the real world. And the way me and my sisters swore the basement was haunted and was the fuel of so many nightmares.
Playing a new album for the first time, like the beginning of a relationship. Feeling timid and unsure of the emotional journey ahead. Not knowing where this is headed, scared of making the wrong choice. And then that song…….why did I question things to begin with?
Falling in love with my husband’s blue eyes all over again and the way his hand fits so naturally into mine.