I’ve nowhere to go…
…and all day to get there.
Not a day goes by that I don’t ask myself what the hell I’m doing.
Or what the hell it is I’m doing it for.
Every mile I gain is one I have to give back.
But I keep adding more,
Going into a continental debt.

Don’t think for a minute that I’ve not looked back.
either over my shoulder,
or in the mirror.

when I fell
I was afraid that I’d let you down, too.
so I picked up. rode on.
when I thought of turning back
I thought of how far I hadn’t come
how much I hadn’t seen.
I knew you’d understand if I returned
but I’d never forgive myself
for seeing you again so soon.
when the well was dry
and the gas low
I pushed on
with no net.
North, and East.
the plan stuck to me.
I write in spite of myself.
I don’t write where I should
…
this isn’t going up.
not yet.
I’ve not even reached the half-way mark yet.
too many more miles to ride.
too much more to see.
before I can see you again.
before I can be safe to see you again.

amor fati,

-j-