God, I am so, so grateful for the endless road.

God, I am so, so grateful for the endless road and all the space it has always given me.

Space to heal.

Space to think and feel deeply.

Space to learn who I am and always remember that person I was lucky enough to find out here.

The road has always allowed me to cry. To explore myself, inside and out. To remember, always, my place with God, my place with the universe, my place in this wild tumultuous world.

The road is safer to me than any home I’ve ever had. I know it so incredibly well. The characters of it feel like family and friends and sparked me with such a burning curiosity that you can still feel the heat around me. A curiosity that literally saved my life when I was truly desperate to find any salvation I could… Anywhere I could find it.

It brought me into the world and out of my head, giving me the antidote to my mental health when it was quickly slipping away from me.

It gave me an endless playground to play, explore, fall down, get lost and then find myself all over again (Sleeping in a cold rest stop feels more at home to me than a house full of chaos).

But, maybe most important of all, the road gave me a safe place to think clearly. To heal deeply. To dream fully. It gave me a place I could be completely still, yet always have movement all around me. Just like my surroundings, it is not possible to get stuck in one loop because the road is always changing. Always new. Each twist and turn in the road allows me to see each thought and problem from an entirely new lens. As I allow myself to get lost in the real world, I find a new path back each time, allowing myself to see my thoughts more objectively. And, as I stumble down each new path and see it for the first time, the home at the end is always the same.

But every time I walk back in that door, it feels more like home than it ever has before.