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She was driving down an open road, windows down,
hair blowing, and she seemed not at all
when I slipped through the window and into the passenger seat.
She turned and smiled, and her hand reached for the volume
and up it went.
She sang with abandon and when I did not immediately join
in, she rotated towards me and said,
“Come on, you love this song.”

And so we sang together, letting the energy of the song
carry us on a wave forward,
forward, that was where she was heading and the
destination did not matter


It was the forward movement, the movement, that was the lesson
“Keep moving,” she said to me.
“You can pause when you need a rest, but do not let
yourself get bogged down in the heavy.”

I knew what she meant. I had been there and the fear
of returning always lingered.

Reading my mind, she said, “It’s okay. You know what to do.
You know who to reach out to and how, and most
importantly you trust yourself now. Keep moving.”

And then I was out of the passenger seat, out the
window, standing on the side of the road, all traces
of her gone. The open road ahead of me,
destination unknown, so I did what I had to do.
“Keep moving,” the wind whispered, and so I did.