And we shed what was left of our summer skin

Cazz and I; we used to go for long drives on afternoons when the sun was bright and the wind was warm. And as I walked into my apartment today after a long day of being inside of an office, all's I could think of was how much I missed hot piece of metal of mine and the sheer sense of freedom that he gave me when I rolled down my windows, turned up the music and took a left instead of a right. Flat fields and clear skies and being one with the golden fields colored by September. I long for that. Yearn for it. It is when I feel the most peace and the most alive, all in one moment.

Today, Paige called me and told me that she wanted to go for a drive, because it was so stinking beautiful out.

And within three minutes she was at my apartment, and we had the windows rolled down and there was no destination, although we eventually ended up at the haunted swings in the back fields of Idaho. It's a single solitary patch of grass, surrounded by trees and two old wooden swings hanging from a rusted frame. And Paige and I sat and swung life away and let the Indian sun warm our backs and we talked about boys and first kisses and futures and how glorious these kinds of days are, when the wind is warm and the sun is slowly setting. And even though I had homework and Paige had a sore throat, it didn't matter. For a few minutes, there wasn't a single care in the world.

I really like the way Idaho makes me feel sometimes.

I'm busy and stressed and my soggy chemo brain is trying to retain so much,

but when I'm sitting in the middle of these vast potato fields, with a good friend and the sun,

everything is okay.

Everything will work out.

Happy Monday.