I was in love, or the closest thing to being in love that I had ever been. That itself was adventure enough for me. Therefore, I tried not to think about the first six weeks of my summer, which were to be spent on yet another summer vacation. These almost always involved a road trip, and this time was no exception. However, this trip was different for me in another way. I had to leave my life, and the source of all of my newly found emotions behind. I had to leave him, but in the end I gained more than I left behind me. I ended up learning much more about myself and my life in those six weeks than I had ever anticipated. Our first destination was Seattle. I occupied myself on the long drive by writing pages in my journal, and as much as I hate to admit it, pining for the boy I had left behind. It is true that it rains in Seattle almost constantly, but when the sun does come out, it’s worth it. In fact, I thought it was worth it even with the rain. The first couple of days there passed in a blur, leaving behind only vague memories of peeling posters on the city walls, and art galleries and of wandering around the public market place, or eating fish and chips on the beach. We eventually left and headed down to Oregon coastline. There we camped on a remote beach which was littered with large pieces of driftwood that had been polished for years by the wind and sand. Even in June, the water was freezing cold and the wind was biting, but this just some how added to the isolated beauty of the place. Looking back, that lonely beach is one of my favorite places I have ever been. We stayed there for two nights, and two days of long walks on the beach, and wading in the waves until our toes were blue, but even in this place I would sit out for hours and wish I was home. Next, we flew to Alaska. I had been gone for almost a month, and I constantly though about home, despite the beauty of Alaska in summertime. After two more weeks we flew back to Seattle, and began the long drive home. We drove down the coast, through the Redwood National Park, which was incredible. We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, and through San Francisco. My 4th of July was spent driving through Los Angeles, looking at the fireworks being lit off in the streets from the freeway. The next day, we arrived at home. It’s funny, how little and how much a place can change when you are away from it for awhile. It’s also funny how much you can change when you are away for awhile. I was glad to be home, but soon everything was familiar again. Things between between the boy I had missed so terribly and I slowly faded and I now found myself missing the cities, mountains, the beaches and the long road sprawled out ahead. I have no regrets about that summer trip, except that I didn’t live it up fully. I was there in person, but I was constantly thinking about elsewhere. I may have lost six weeks of time with a person who I don’t talk to now, but I gained a perspective on life. Now, every time I step out my door, I think not of what I’m leaving behind, but what new interesting things I will experience.
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