I’m feeling restless today, looking at pictures of little towns in the mountains and the deserts and by the water, and wanting to put on my roaming shoes and go wandering. I’ve got to travel a lot lately, here and there, Chicago, Austin, other places in the Midwest, but it’s not the kind of travel I want to do when the wanderlust hits. When I am feeling this way I just want to pick a place out on the map and go there, no plans, no one to accompany me or tell me what to do or when to do it, to just explore at my own pace.
I’m headed to Chicago again this weekend, and then to Hot Springs, AR, in November, but both trips are with Ad, and though I love traveling with him, this is more about me wanting…I don’t know what. To experience someplace as just me, to not have to share my impressions or filter what I see/experience through someone else.
And I miss the water.
A few weeks ago, when I was in the midst of that awful period, I sort of half jokingly said that it was good that W was around to babysit me, that I wasn’t alone for the first four days of that situation, else I would have been likely to just get in my car and drive til I got to the ocean. I wasn’t kidding, though. When I run, I run towards the sea. This doesn’t feel like running though. This just feels like…restlessness. A desire to be somewhere else, without having to be someone in particular. To just be me.