"You're always running." Chat says. Well, that's because someone's chasing me. I also run so I don't catch myself. Yesterday, I was happily watching the birds on the patio going through their bag of seeds like they paid for it, when this sudden urge to "run" to break free, hit me. So I threw in a couple of clothes into my backpack and took off.
As soon as I hit highway 75, I realized I didn't really know where to run to or what I'm running from. My late husband used to tell me; when in doubt where to go, always choose East. So I did. The very thing I am running from subconsciously has also become the familiar thing I have come to embrace as my refuge. So am here in Louisiana with the redneck. Barely 36 hours and I'm ready to get back on the road again. I'm just grateful, because the redneck understands and simply shakes his head. "That's Ritchie, but I love her and all her weirdness." Not really expecting an answer, I ask myself: "Why do I still feel so lost, when I've already been found?"
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