349 miles to New Orleans

I wrote the bones of this in my head while driving down I-10 fourteen yrs ago but could never physically write it and hit save. I'm glad I waited.. I think it turned out much better than the original.

 349 miles to New Orleans

 

            349 miles to New Orleans.  I know I can do this.  I can do this.  I need to keep repeating these words to remind myself.  I’ll make it out of my nightmare if I can just remember that I can do this. 

347 miles to New Orleans.  My fingers ache from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.  I tell myself that it’s ok to relax.  I loosen my grip but then my arms begin to shake.  Tears roll down my face and I’m humiliated by my own weakness.  But I remind myself that I am not weak.  I made it out.  I’m in the car and I’m on my way.  I take a deep breath and focus on the road.

302 miles to New Orleans.  It hits me that I’m really doing this.  I panic and look for the nearest exit.  I really should turn around.  Things could be alright if I……   No.  There is no way to finish that sentence.  There isn’t anything else for me to do aside from saving myself.  I reinstate a death grip on the wheel, remind myself that I can do this, and focus on the road.  My fingers ache again but I decide that it’s good to remember pain.

260 miles to New Orleans.  I’m far enough away that I decide I can let myself think about him.  Just for a minute.  Like a drug, his memory works its charms, just like he used to do.  The nightmare dissipates for a bit.  Flashes of happiness return.  I feel the high seeping into my system and wonder how it is possible that he is the addict, yet I am seemingly the one with the addiction.  I decide it wasn’t a good idea to think about him just yet.

259 miles to New Orleans.  I can smell his breath in my hair - his stray whispers begging me not to leave.  I bite my lip as my heart begins to scream.  And for a moment I can taste his parting kiss.  Mixed with the salt from his tears, as he realized I was really leaving this time, his kiss was bittersweet.  My trembling arms want to find him and yet again I am torn by a familiar impasse.  I desperately want to fix things for him.  I want to comfort him and take his pain away.  But doing this keeps me trapped in my own pain.  I look in the rearview mirror then in a panic, I look away.  It’s a sunset.  It’s beautiful, alluring, seductive, but I know that it will ultimately burn my eyes.  I can feel it pulling me in.  I want it in my sight.  I want to soak in its intensity and drown in its crimson lust.  Another exit approaches; only 90 miles back to Houston.  I check the rearview mirror one more time; I need to see if it’s safe to change lanes so I can make the exit.  And in that fleeting moment, the sunset sears my eyes. 

255 miles to New Orleans.

Author's Note

critique away.........

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

leaving someone you love because you know that somewhere there is a greater experience of love and friendship is absolutely the hardest thing in the world to do

[badincubus]

Love it, you are so in touch with your emotions...i am jealous.