When there’s nothing left to burn, you must set yourself on fire.
–Stars, Your Ex-Lover Is Dead
The fog was already in place when I woke up this morning. It proved stubborn, and the usual clear to a sunny day did not occur. I waited for it. Today was a day for a long drive, with errands and such, and the mist did not lift, daring us to go ahead. We did. By night, it was but a blur of lights. Dangerous but beautiful. We drove nearly blind.
It made me think about where I was headed. In truth, I didn’t know. I am but six months into my fellowship. I was only beginning to understand what I didn’t know. Steve held my hand in the car and asked me what I was thinking. He had seen the furrow in my brow. I lied about some vague mumbles and pretended to fall asleep. I thought about how lost I was, and it irritated me that the streaming Pandora station seemed to know me better than I did. It picked out songs I didn’t even know I liked.
The drive did not solve-find-illuminate anything, but on our way home, I felt anxious to be home again. To curl up under warm blankets and wake up to hopefully a sunny day tomorrow. I need to feel the light.
