1,000 Is Nothing When It Means Everything.

Continue 125 miles.

Well at the end I will be 125 miles farther from home. The destination it's pointing me to is everything I've grown up growing used to. Have you heard of towns like these; places where mechanics hold a name in every state? Where once I drove south several miles with the same light souls with matching hair, I ventured a now familiar stretch. The view always is more beautiful facing northeast. How can home sit on two sides of 1000 miles of roads? It's effortless.

Surrounded by my three favorite shades of yellow, I spent a bittersweet seven days while the seasons changed. I found bright eyes, kind smiles; I found fault in eyes I once regarded as next to perfect. The world so far removed from what I call home became reality. It is strange to realize that you live and breathe when I'm not there to see the way the sun and rain collide with the fabric on your shoulders. Your laugh is in my ears; your idle time is my time well spent. The CDs I forgot can't play my emotions like the way each voice tickles my ear. What do they call someone who changes a life? I call it a hero. I'm fortunate, blessed with a small army of heroes directly northeast of where I now sit and remember. They're nothing like the vibrant colors of collector copy comic books; they're real, and that about them makes the sun shine behind my eyes. I'm like a child in awe. A tall boy and a deep voice, one at eye level with a carefree presence, two girls, one twin, one a mirror image of my best friend, a boy more genuinely kind than I've ever known, another as wild as his hair, a handful of hilarious new people.

And a girl, complete with facial exercises and a mind both refreshingly clean and intriguingly compex, who knows three very different, far removed girls better than any one person could ever claim. I hope the corruption was mild and ultimately worthwhile; we came like a hurricane in the midwest even if you claim the surprise was busted. Busted like the color in our arms, purple, blue, green, busted like every emotion I try to swallow when I looked behind me. Where once was four, three felt out of balance. You belonged with us; I blame the weather, the government, the miles that are more beat up than our skin. I reached out to grab your hand like we so often did, and it's moments like those that make everything about leaving impossible to understand. I miss our house. I miss making messes and doing what we can to clean them up. I miss the noise, the laziness, the inappropriate everything. I miss you more than anything else. But I promise you my favorite sun is shining in the reassurance that it won't be long.

Thank every wishable star for determination.