Todd seemed to be under a similar yoke in that he too was wondering what was manifesting itself in the aether. Despite this, Brian and Joey still seemed pleased to have us. We all took to vegging out around the house for our stay.
For the Fourth we did nothing fireworks oriented, but indulged in the great American tradition of TV marathon watching. This weekend was non-stop Rod Sterling classical Twilight Zone. By Monday, I had also re-hooked myself on The History Channel as well. Along with this I took to drinking all too much coffee, as it is readily available at any given moment in their home.
Again, though, I must apologize to Brian and Joey, because I sunk into a strange deflated funk. I was starting to fall back into a state of agitated disconnect as I wondered what in the hell I should be doing with my time now.
Todd and I had a strange level of communication going at this point as well, I think due to this ethereal confusion. I was feeling a definite draw to leave by Sunday night and random things were still popping up on him that would suggest a longer stay. Much of my struggle was trying to figure out if this pull to leave was coming from just really wanting to finally get going again or if it really was time for he and I to split ways, as we'd always thought we eventually would. The third possibility, making "the feeling" ever more muddled, was whether or not it was my task to muster him to come with me or not. That one felt terribly wrong, but it came from the pressing notion that we'd be in Iowa together.
This impression of bumming around I-80 through Iowa together was the only internal guide I had for what I should do. My ego was really getting in the way as I kept feeling like I was just being lead around, coming and going, at Todd's will. It was a completely unfair accusation, but it is exactly how my brain thinks when it feels like trying to be a victim. Luckily, I'm well aware of that tendency so the idea never manifested into actual thought, much less on to my outside voice.
This was how the weekend was for me, though. It was spent dancing in my head trying to figure out which lesson I was to be learning. Was it to recognize when its time to move on alone, or, our old favorite, patience being strung out in countdown form? I think it turned out to be the latter.
Looking back over my writings from last month, destined departures were a week or two away. In the past weeks I'd declare I was leaving in a few days. Then it dwindled to a series of "next day" exits. By Monday and Tuesday they turned to promises within hours. What held me to stay was identifying that strong, but hazy, feeling of Todd and I in Iowa mucking about. That was the only thing I couldn't shake.
By Monday it had boiled down to Todd straight up telling me I should go on by myself. It came from me trying to press out where he was and what his thoughts were on heading west, probably with a heavy edge of agitation to it. He was also pretty full with frustration so we sat down and got it out that neither of us were agitated at the other, we just couldn't figure out why we weren't leaving. In fact, we still don't know why.
We hashed out a few ideas on what we felt stuck on, different methods to leave, and shout outs to Craigslist ride shares. Nothing clicked. We got quite a few "perfect" ride responses through Craigslist, but they all fell through one way or another in the end. I kept thinking that this had to be a Tantalus test in patience.
Finally, Tuesday, we were at our stations of feeling completely lost debating taking a series of commuter rails from South Bend to Joliet when it all finally snapped together. We had debated busing to Davenport, Iowa often but for some reason this time when we hit on it it seemed like the perfect solution. Iowa 80 is the mecca of all truck stops and the perfect place to hitch, camp out, and eat. For the same price we discovered a bus that would drop us off in that parking lot. Our clue that we'd finally found the right way out came with the old familiar surge of energy that lights us up.
It was quite a feeling to feel the guidance surge up again through all the muck we'd slathered ourselves in. We had four hours to get everything together and catch our bus. I even had my brief moment of heading out on my own opting to walk the three miles to the bus station while Todd stayed to see if Brian might come home to drive us. If he didn't he figured he'd catch a cab, but I needed to stroll at least a little bit.
I got about a mile or so before they swung by and scooped me up. It felt right to be able to at least hug Brian goodbye in the end, so I was glad they caught up with me. At long last we were now finally, and definitely, getting out of Michigan.
Click here for Todd's perspective.
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