And so, finishing with South Dakota, my whirlwind, self directed tour of the west came to a close.
After the initial yelp of surprise and hugs that followed, we were able to make the decision within 10 minutes flat that we were way too worked up with best-friend-adrenaline to have a night in and so, after her own 14 hour work day and my 10 hour drive into the city, we headed out to the bar to show the world that, without question, we>you.
The next couple of days with her are are a blur of Disney movies, wine, popsicles, building forts and Google-imaging alcoholic celebrities, but every time we're together, it's easy to remember and understand why everyone hates us: We're just better.
Finally, though, I was back at home in my own goddamn bed.
It was strange: it felt more like I was simply coming home after a regular work shift or that I had been out of town for just the weekend instead of a near month's drive into and through nearly every landscape imaginable. Life immediately feels like it may effortlessly pick up right where I had left it.
Shortly before I had left, I was telling an acquaintance about my trip and about the substantial distance I was planning on covering in just my first couple of days in order to quickly get to my first destination. He paused and stared at me with a quizzical look before responding,
While I have no regrets about how I spent my time and energy throughout my miniature odyssey, I'm confident, in retrospect, that he was right. Adventure as a whole is no doubt exciting and fast paced, but the capacity to fall in love with the one you've involved yourself in comes from letting it slowly envelop you. A real adventure is a long, drawn out affair of the heart and a slowly formed, warm, appreciative smile just as much as it's a mysterious look from across the room or a wildly intoxicated race through some foreign city.
Lesson learned, I'm hoping I'm already prepared for my next.