I am never the destination

When I think of a destination in basic terms I think of a place, a final place of peace and contentment. When I think of a resting place I consider the feeling of being home, of belonging. However, I am coming to realize that we are not all the ‘destination’. Perhaps we are merely cracked tiles on the pathway towards somewhere else. Maybe we are just the gravel roads before the paradise.

I am not okay with that. I think I might be okay with that. Maybe I am lying. Nobody wants to be a quick stop or a little rest stop along the way. I know that personally I want to come along for the journey. I want to be with you. I want to experience all the exhilarating moments of bright sunrises through a cold car window. I want to have messy hair in the passenger seat and ask if I can drive so you can take a break. I want to fill the blissful car silence with my sigh of happiness. I don’t care about the destination, I care about you and all the wonderful road trip music we could have.

I don’t want to be your destination anymore; I want to be your travel companion. And perhaps for some I am just a stop off a highway, a quick refuel. But I don’t want to be that for you. I want to drive with you all the way, forever and not reach anywhere in particular.

“It’s a hard road honey

And there ain’t nobody I’d rather be next to

It’s a rough ride baby but we’re gonna make it together

Me and you

When you’re tired, I’ll grab the wheel

And you take over when I’m done

Love is taking turns

Riding shotgun”

Maybe I am naïve, and I’m disregarding the hunger and the restlessness. I forget that sometimes its okay for either one of us to stretch our legs. I just want to get back inside the car with you right after.

I would rather be naïve and enjoy the drive and the open road; I would rather drink my coffee from a travel flask. I would rather feel hungry and tired with you than full and rested with anyone else.


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