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That morning my back unclenched for the first time-no stress in my forehead, no arm muscles randomly tensing as if to prepare for a fight unbeknownst to me. Driving through darkness to dawn, I lost myself. Headphones on feeling more awake then I had been for months, it was just me. And him. One of my best friends asleep in the passenger seat, if I got too tired I could wake him up, but there's something beautifully calm about a sleeping friend. Smiling, I felt like a parent, for once getting to keep someone safe other than myself. Also, it was a time for just God and I, to watch the sun rise and miles eat away; I love to drive. Instant gratification, the wheels could take you away from your problems if you hadn't buried them so deep in your heart. The spoken word poems of Andrea Gibson meeting my ears, I cried going down a mountain, finally opening my heart to God and telling Him how hurt I was, another cross He bears for me. Feeling my spirit soar as I did not, for once, have anything else to do but sit in His presence and listen. No paper to write on, no way to get my own thoughts down, it was time for me to listen. To just be



*of course me being ME, I write about one of the last parts of my road trip first, without actually telling you where I was or where I was going. All in good time! 
 


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