Counting The Miles

The road I am traveling these days begs me to advance a new perspective. It has become clear to me that I am not gifted in foresight, as my expectations are misguided and I wake in disappointment when the world I open my eyes to, I am not looking at with open eyes. My eyes are shut tight and I’d rather not open them to face the miles left ahead. I romanticize the everyday occurrences, but are they romantic at all? If I am giving false light to truth, is it then false? What if my perception, bathed in romanticism, is leading me astray from reality and furthering my steps toward the life I dream, which is only a dream.

(For the sake of reputation, I edited out what I wrote after that last period. At the end of that paragraph, I did some questioning about relationships and after re-reading, it just sounded desperate and needy…so I hid it all.)

I have been given with the ability to travel a large amount lately, which I am thankful for, but its easy for the miles to wear your soles thin and leave you sitting in a Hampton Inn & Suites lobby at nearly midnight with a racing mind. Every day I get to live a dream that seems to inch me further away from the dreams I see from beneath the covers of my hotel bed sheets and stack of pillows which I burrow beneath every night. This duality evaporates my hope and leads me to a place where I am trapped inside my mind, on a lonely highway with nothing but a blur of lines and some mile markers passing me by.

However, I must journey on, because it is the task I have been charged with. With each mile, I will see a heart and find a smile. Hope will be renewed in the darkest depth of the night and the brightness of the morning’s glory will breathe redemption to my travels. There will be moments when my worth will be numb to the touch, as I leave what I love to do what I love, but I feel these moments will pass and value will be restored to my tired heart; with all I am, I believe there is hope in the road less traveled, so I travel on.


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