I crossed the Kentucky state line at about 7pm. Home. I thought I would be gone for just three months but three turned into four and four turned into six. In the past six months I’d seen more, done more, and gone farther than I ever thought I could.
The whole way through Tennessee I fantasized. Fantasized about pulling up to my friends’ house in Louisville and plopping my nasty feet in the living room and smiling as I looked around at everyone’s faces and let the love envelop me. The thought compelled me as I sped along the interstate. Oh how I missed my friends.
I wanted to tell them. To tell them how this whole vagabonding thing isn’t actually for me. That rock climbing was cool and all but it’s not worth dying for and how I’m not fucking packing my backpack again for at least six months… Christ who am I kidding I know that I’m going to do this