Bittersweet Homecoming Written By: Arturo Rodriquez Four hours and thirty-five minutes. The drive back to my childhood home is four hours and thirty-five minutes long. On days where I have to drive back home, whether it be for break from school or some sort of family emergency, a sixth of my day is spent in a compact car. For the most part, I complete this drive by myself, mostly because there isn’t really anyone I can take on this drive. There aren’t too many people that I know that come from my hometown, or any of the surrounding areas. Most of the people that I do know are off living their own lives in different places across the country. It would be nice to have someone to travel with on this boring road trip. It would also be nice to have someone chip in for gas, and maybe have someone entertain me while driving. There are benefits to driving alone. For starters, I can play my own music, or try to play music that appeals to someone else’s taste. I can just go towards my destination without having to drop someone off. I don’t have to initiate or participate in small talk (which is the absolute worst thing to do). Most importantly, I can be myself on the car ride. **The First Hour** I always dread this drive. I hate driving home. I don’t have a lot of good memories back home. The few that I had weren’t enough to keep me nearby. That’s why when I had the opportunity to leave the state, I took it. My new home has provided me with much more pleasantries than my hometown ever did. Why would I want to leave. Well, mostly because people in my family miss me. Yet, they don’t understand why I don’t like being home. Well, at least my parents don’t. I often prolong the preparation before the drive, double-checking that I have everything I need to bring with me on the trip. I prolong my visit to the gas-station, ensuring that I have both gas and snacks for the drive. There have been times in which I stay in the car for a few minutes and just relax. Sometimes, I’ll stay in the lot by my new house and nap before I leave. However, at some point, I have to take off. The first hour of my drive is usually quiet. The only noise that can be heard from the car is that of the podcast that I had put on. I usually put on a podcast to make the drive seem shorter. More often than not, the podcast goes on for an hour or more. With the podcast on in the background, I have something to entertain me on this boring trip through Iowa. It takes me 20 minutes to exit the suburbs and spend most of the trip looking at nothing but roads, plains and farmland. Chapter 1
19 Publizr Home