Map

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I want to throw a dart at a map, and go wherever it lands.
I don't care if it's three hundred miles away, or three thousand miles away, but I want to go.
I want to pack a bag, whatever will fit, take the two hundred bucks in my pocket and the clothes on my back, and just get out of here, out of this small town, out of this place I don't care about. My heart yearns to tie strings to new places, places I could connect to with a definite tug.
I want to drive for hours on end like I did this summer when I drove down the east coast with my best friends in a great escape to someplace new, if only for a few days.
I want to drive and keep driving, but I want you to be by my side- by my side when we make stops at a gas station where we fill up and buy gross energy drinks at four a.m., by my side when I miss the exit and have a breakdown that only you know how to calm me out of, by my side when we reach the final destination, knowing very well that this isn't even the final destination for us because the story of us contains a vast journey, and goddamn, we're just getting started.
There have been chapters and paragraphs and even sparse sentences containing the two of us, but all of those elements combined still aren't enough.
We're an entire series, a spellbound saga, and all we have to do is keep going.
Goddamn, we're just getting started.

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