WEEK 2!

I have been driving for a little bit more than a day now. I have no destination in mind. I just drive. It is cold outside. A very cold winter in Texas that I have never experienced before. Leaving home in a hurry in the first morning hour so no one would see me, I left most of my warm clothes behind. All I have is a thin coat that keeps my body at the right temperature with the help of the car’s heater. I am comfortable for now, but how will I feel when I face real difficulties that may lay ahead of my path. I force myself to stop thinking of that now. I do not want to regret my choice right at the beginning of this journey.

After passing through Houston, I stop briefly for dinner at a restaurant on the road that for some reason seems like a bar – most people seem to be there only to inebriate themselves rather than eating. The prices are cheap so I seat at a table anyway. The table to my right is occupied by these two men covered in mud and a woman who does not have the happiest countenance at all. They must have been through a lot. I do not mind them, but one of the men ask me for a lighter. “I am sorry, I do not smoke”, I say. He nods with dissatisfaction. His friend, I believe so, tries to start a conversation.  He tells me the events of the previous night, when his car got stuck in the mud. I do not quite remember his name, though the woman’s name I will never forget – Marylou. I had a pet chicken called Marylou. What I will not forget about that group is all the marvelous and crazy stories they told me about being on the road. They have been traveling from East to West and this was not their first time doing this trip – and probably not the last. “Where do you come from”, “Where are you headed to, he asked me to keep the conversation alive. I hesitated on answering. Even though I had a hometown and a family, I did not feel like that town was where I belonged. I do not know where I am from. Neither did I know where I was going to. I wanted the roads to take me wherever they wanted to. He said they were headed to California, and asked me if I wanted to join them, paying only for the gas in return. I politely declined, but also said that I just might join them in the future. Future is God’s and I have no control over it. By this time, they were already tired of that bar and desired to hop to another. They said goodbye, and I finished my dinner. Thinking to myself, I was at ease with not knowing where I wanted to go. If anything, the encounter with these travelers made me more confident on the reason for which I am doing this trip.