After 30 minutes of driving is when I get trapped in my own thoughts. My mind races to distract myself from the drive, thinking of different scenarios, stories, and memories of the past. I look back at some moments in life and think about how things could have been different. I think about how I get to this point in my life. “Why are you going back?” I look around at the grey sky hitting the vast empty green lands that inhabit Iowa. The drive back home is going to be long. **The Next Two and a Half** Besides the podcast playing in the back, the car is still very quiet. Nothing much has changed within the next hour of driving. I simply continue on without saying much. There isn’t much to say, and to whom would I speak to? Myself? I used to have a huge habit of conversing with myself. My parents said it wasn’t healthy; so, when I do talk to myself, it’s in writing or done mentally. The conversations can range depending on my mood. If I am feeling well, the conversation can be of me thinking about some of my favorite interest such as basketball, professional wrestling, superheroes, Pokémon among other things (if you cannot tell, I am huge geek). When I feel upset, grumpy, (and on one occasion) heartbroken, my thoughts become unsettling. I become very negative, and every little inconvenience during my trip seems to bother me much more than it usually does. There was an instance where my thoughts were very much selfloathing, and of me telling myself that I’m not good enough. “You should turn around. They’re not going to want you.” “I’ve already driven this far. I can’t turn around now.” Two hours and fifteen minutes into my drive, I usually stop in Walcott, Iowa. The large truck stop serves as a halfway point in my trip. I tend to spend more time than I need to at this truck stop, usually buying lunch and gas before heading back on the road. At this point I’m not that far from the state border. I get back on I-80 and head east. Twenty minutes go by, and I see the big green sign that says “Illinois.” I’m home… kind of. I continue to see a majority of land that is either empty or farmland. However, there is a different atmosphere upon entering the state. The sky appears bluer, and the grass is a much more vibrant green. My mind begins to feel less cluttered. Any negativity that I have, goes away for about an hour. “You miss it.” **The Last Hour** The final hour of the drive is always the most stressful for me. At this point, I focus a lot more on trying to get back home. The road becomes busier with traffic as I begin to head into the southern suburbs of Chicago. At his point in the drive, I change the audio from podcast to actual music. I turn the volume up so that I can keep my self alert and awake. It’s during this final hour that my mind begins to race with thoughts once again. I pass by familiar sites and think of the memories they remind me of. All the memories that I had left behind, slowly start to come back to me. “You’re almost there.” Twenty minutes away from my destination is when I start running into traffic. All the cars around become a nuisance. I’m filled with impatience. I want to get home. I want the drive to end. I want to lay down and rest, but at the same time, I do not want to be here. “Take the exit. You’re not to far from home.” The drive home from the highway is short. I’ve reentered my hometown and drive through my neighborhood. It’s quiet and humble. In the neighborhood, there are people either walking their dogs or tending to their lawns. There is a park where many of the neighborhood kids frolic and play games with one another. I pull up to the curb outside of my house. Cars are lined-up on the curb with little to no spaces left. I was lucky enough to get the spot near my house. I wait in the car for a few minutes to prepare myself to reenter my childhood home. I turn the keys in the engine to turn my car off. “Welcome home.” People say that home is where the heart is. How can I call a place home if my heart left there a long time ago. 19
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