3 years ago500+ Views
Look for me where the cell service ends. Walk down that dirt road and feel free to take your shoes off, its how we all walk. Follow the bend and have a chat with everyone you see, I've known them since before I was born. Their good people. Gaze out over the lake and look for the boat full of too many kids riding with always more empty beers then full. Ill be the one kneeling on the co-captian seat, face tilted up, hair trying to air dry as we shoot across the lake.
Its on this back road lake that you will find my home. A cabin built by my grandpa with empty bottles of whisky hanging from the celling and cracks in between planks of wood that lets in the tiniest bit of fire light during the darkest hours of the night. Our shower is outside and at 4pm you will always need sunglasses as you shampoo your hair.
And that dirt road is mine. Every summer you can watch me walk the same path, barefoot quick, stepping in the places I know won't hurt my feet. I will walk into each house, because knocking is for city people, and join in someones dinner while I wait for mine to finish. We will always make enough for visitors like you that just swing by, never call.
Home doesn't just stop at the end of the property line, but extends to the boys down the road that I've known since birth. And the ones I only see in the summer who know more about me then I do And the ones whose mom will discipline with a glare scarier then my own mothers but will cook my favorite meal all in the same day. We get away with nothing, but know exactly how to avoid punishment. We are never in it alone.
Leaving home isn't just leaving camp. Leaving home is leaving more and more of myself scattered up and down that dirt road. It's leaving comfort and rebellion, family and more homes, independence in a shack smaller then my "real house" first floor.
Leaving home is spending the next few nights crying in a nicer bed, its that sick feeling when trees turn to buildings and the dirt road turn to pothole streets that I refuse to memorize.
Leaving home is leaving my best self behind, and I'm not quite sure how much more leaving I can take.
Awesome. You have a way with words...made me cry!
My that three choked up. Long and winding dirt road around the point.
I teared up to. Great story
@ElizabethBomba thanks so much!! After being there all weekend i think I'm still going though the downward spiral of being back in real life !