I've Finally Decided...

I'm in Georgia, now, with Mama and my sister.

Friday Kasey came to see me out from where he lives across town to help me pick up my rental car. It was a hell of a drive, but he insisted. He refused to accept my apologies. It was out of the question to him to not be there.

He packed the car in seven minutes flat and held me... kissed me... said a few of the things he likes to say that make me melt. Whether I believe them or not, I love hearing them!

When dinner was finished and the children's mother had photographed my babies and me, I held them and kissed them and promised to love them forever.

Before I even finished backing down the driveway in my rented Impala I was in tears.

As I crossed the Williamsburg Bridge - at about seven thirty - I heard Kasey had put Nick Drake on my compilation for me. The same song I'd put on his. We'd never mentioned Nick Drake before.

I found a parking place by Mars Bar and spent about forty-five minutes with Asit. Beer, vandalism, laughter, cigarettes...

It took me an hour from there to get out of the city.

So I hit New Jersey at nine o'clock, and then drove until three in the morning, stopping just east of Pittsburgh.

When I saw New York in my rearview mirror I felt my heart expand with joy. I tried to take a deep breath, but - alas - I was still in New Jersey, right? That's the smelliest state...

When I stopped I could see stars, you know. In the sky, I mean.

Saturday I drove from ten in the morning until four in the afternoon, where I stopped just outside of Dayton to see Todd and Emily get married.

All the way through Ohio, though, I was neck-and-neck with a guy in a Nissan from Nevada. I never saw him look at me, but we were clearly keeping each other ahead of the crowd. For a good hundred miles or so.

He'd wind in and out of a clot in the traffic, and I'd follow, and the next time I'd pick the path and he'd be right behind me. Bit by bit we passed everybody on the road.

At one point I saw him motion to the right over his head with his left hand. He exited at a rest stop, and I exited too. He parked in the first space, and I parked in the last space on the other side. While I re-sorted my cd's he went inside. While I went inside he smoked a cigarette. Without any communication we both got back in our cars and carried on.

Only when I exited for Dayton did he wave good bye.

So there I was at the exit for this wedding and I realize I don't like a damn thing I have to wear. So I swung into the nearby Marshall's and bought a gorgeous BCBG black number that looked perfect.

I quickly changed clothes in the church parking lot, dabbed on a little makeup and ran inside the church just in time.

None of our friends came to the wedding. Except for the groomsmen. I don't think that Todd and Emily realized how much they had pushed their friends away in the last two years. But he got into grad school. She got the job.

The four parents were so happy I made it. Over and over again they thanked me for coming. I love Todd so much, though.

Like Dave Curcio said, "but... it's Michaela."

So the groomsmen, right, were a bunch of my old buddies. Back when me and Todd were tight and I stayed at his house all the time. So while the old people danced, me and the three of them did our part to floating the kegs, and then they let me crash in their hotel room.

It was too bad that other friends couldn't have made it, but the truth is that all the best people were there, and the four of us had so much fun just drinking and retelling stories.

I waited until eleven on Sunday to head out towards Georgia, but I was home by six thirty. Forty-eight hours after I took off.

My body needed the drive, though. My heart and my head and my stomach and my skin all needed to feel every second of the distance of the journey between New York and Georgia.

It took me so long to process the change, the distance, and the scenery when I moved up north. It was important for me in closing this part of my life to be able to see the different landscapes as they progressed naturally over the miles. I really feel a thousand miles away now.

I'm sorry I didn't get to see you too, Matthew. Of course, seeing you at Wilco is a good last memory, finished off with a shot of tequila. It was a rocky friendship, as you say, but perhaps that's because it was only intended to last the duration of that first Saturday evening at Odessa. I appreciate the warmth of that one night more than I even realized at the time.

And now begins the next episode.