I WILL myself…some day…to travel like I used to, relying on no one but myself! Ok, well, at least to places like Chicago, a place I know so well.

(Three months of rehabilitation just off Lake Shore Drive at fourteen years old, The Museum of Science and Industry’s been a staple since a kid, and every five months I have an appointment that’s right by School of the Art Institute of Chicago (where my daughter goes)…but…DAMN IT! I’ve traveled to Chicago alone my whole adult life!

How many times did I drive all by myself from the Arizona desert to the Midwest cornfields, from a Colorado Valley to an Arizona Mountain, from a San Diego beach to family in Texas?

How far did I go? My van might know.

I need freedom from silent expectations, bites of resentment, and voiceless screams. I want to escape being ignored as an acceptable way of living.

Hours pass by so slow as I wait for…my chance. The next time a friend says let’s talk, I won’t get scared and avoid the call!

A dragonfly’s wings fan subtle heat on my shoulder, and as if through a microphone-hand my tiny friend yells:

“ANSWER! You silly wench! No more bricks in the wall! You’re no longer a teenager! You’re an ADULT.”

Some day I’ll get away…for now, I guess, I’ll just keep dreaming, and vicariously I’ll trigger myself happy watching from my home.