I-264 West

I was afraid to drive on I-264 West, because there was a thunderstorm out. I had been used to driving myself around now that I had lived in Virginia Beach for a year. Local roads that led to dead ends. Even random round-a-bouts that all led to the apartment where I lived. I only drove to-and-from Tidewater Community College, my best friend Donnie’s house, or the grocery store for the bare minimum on a monthly allowance I had received from my father. This was the fallout year when I had left Alaska and jumped into community college without a sense of purpose or direction. Now I was an still-unemployed-19-year-old kid with only himself to care of, I sure as hell did not know where the motivation to do something grand, something courageous came from. I was afraid to drive, because I was picking up my then-girlfriend at the time. We had gotten into a long-distance relationship. She was visiting Virginia Beach by way of Long Island – just a quick flight through lightning and terror. I’d imagine the gods were trying to send us a shockwave so ominous that we would both succumb to a type of specific fear. But the fact that she had withstood delay, traffic, and a terrifying flight down, it made sense that I was scared. Down deep, I knew that this was the beginning of a long and sprawling journey where both of our hearts knew exactly where we wanted to be. As I turned the key in the ignition, I backed up and saw the blurry future through the slurry of raindrops and autumn debris on the windshield ahead of me.