The night I ran away

It was a full moon.
When I drove through the canyon, it was bright enough to see the rock formations.
I was reminded of countless drives through the same canyon, in the back of my parents' car.
This time I was the driver.

I was almost giddy with anticipation.
I had been waiting for this freedom all of my life.
I didn't care about tomorrow.
I wanted to get there and just live.

What I left behind-or at least what I thought I left behind-
all the bad things that come from a fragmenting family.
all the bad things that come from being full of self-pity.
all the bad things that come from being lonely.

What I embraced-
the great, all-encomapassing NEED that circumvented all logic synapses in my head.
the idea that my judgement was the only crucial factor.
that anger was the only solution.

Upon reflection-
I am damned lucky I didn't wreck the car and break my parents' hearts in the process.
I am damned lucky that the situation was mostly a symptom, not the solution.
I am damned lucky that I grew up and got my head out of my ass. It was stuffy there.

But the full moon and canyon are still a part of me.
As is the notion that forward momentum can solve anything.
And for better or worse, stagnation is death.