Who would've known that when I turn twenty, I would've experienced the lust of fevered kisses, flushed cheeks and destination set hands.
I would've possibly laughed. Then, I would've pondered for a bit, thought about the upcoming months that would've lied before me, then brushed off the idle future that couldn't possibly be mine.
As I drove down the I-5 South, the same freeway that I had driven for the past four months; something about this particular road trip was different. There was no longer an invisible end line, neither was there anything waiting for me at the end of the finish line.
It was just me.
So, now as I'm left with a playlist of my emotions, is it bad to think I had put so much energy into an idea of something, that I had missed the mark of actually experiencing whatever it was I was chasing.
Yes, I continue to reflect on the first time I had met these crazy boys that consumed my mind for the past several months. It was the end of summer and all around us were sandy beaches, Blue Moons and unused bags of charcoal around the fire pit. If I had just known what were to be in store that day, would I really do anything different?
I don't know.
Which is why my eyes looked through the windshield with a new perspective because there was nothing for me this time. I was doing all of this for me.
There was a new meaning behind this PCH adventure.
I needed to escape the cloudy gray skies of back home and hear the sound of crashing waves under the warm sun. I also needed to bring a new memory to the sandy summer beaches, and laughter around a bonfire.
Even if that meant a quick escape during finals week to the beach, because no matter how far I go, PCH has its wonders of reminding you of every little detail you just happened to overlook.
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