The horizon leans forward,
offering you space to place
new steps of change

- Maya Angelou

There's something peaceful about driving alone with only the highway for company. My fingers strum the leather steering wheel to the lilting notes of Iron and Wine, and I lose myself in the yellow stripes, the trees that fade to oblivion beside me, the rush of cars all around me.

Life seems to pass me by at the same speed, existing just outside of my peripherals, unnoticed. I'm so caught up in my path, my route forward, that I'm oblivious to everything outside of me, the people, colors, moments that make life itself worth living. I miss the doe and her fawn that gallop through the wheat field, the faded rainbow that paints the sky after rain, everything. So much exists beyond what's directly ahead of me.

This new start is my chance to change myself and my perspective. I can't keep living in this mire of discontentment for the rest of my days, lost in what could have been and what was, losing sight of what could be. Perhaps happiness has been one block away, waiting for me if only I'd look around.

I sigh and turn up the air conditioning in the Ladybug, knowing it won't do any good. Dad follows me in his F250 stacked high with hand-me-down furniture and too many boxes of books. I stare at the road and watch as the Welcome to Ohio sign appears before me. I hold my breath as I cross the state line. When will I be home again? Who will I be when I return? I pray I'll be someone different. I'm not sure I can be this girl anymore.

The drive to Columbus is about seven hours long, give or take a few minutes for pee breaks, gas station stock-ups, and my inability to surpass the speed limit by more than five miles per hour. Every ten miles or so, Dad calls me and tells me to speed up, and I make some snarky comment about the significance of the word "limit" on the speed limit signs.

As I drive, I wonder if I'm making a huge mistake. I'm leaving my comfort zone behind me, but what if I fall again? When Josh and I broke apart and Gramps died, I was fortunate to have my parents to catch me and try to reassemble the pieces, turning me into who I am now, but I don't know if I can go through that again. What if I hate my new job? What if I find that life in Columbus is just as empty and monotonous as live in Allentown? What if the problem has less to do with my surroundings and more to do with me?

This is why I shouldn't spend so much time by myself, I muse. I think too much. I reach for the stereo and scan the radio, relaxing into an upbeat Meghan Trainor song. She doesn't care if I'm screwed up as long as I shake what the good Lord gave me. I start to dance in my seat, singing along at the top of my lungs. I'm way too old for this, but who cares? At least if I'm singing, I don't have to think about the bottomless black hole that is my life.

I'm so preoccupied singing along to the girl-power-anthem that I completely miss the guy in the Rav4 who drives in the left lane next to me. He laughs at me through the window, ignoring the line of cars in the fast lane behind him. I glance left, and when I catch his eyes, my face turns bright red. Of course someone saw me. The guy's mouth falls open as he speeds away, still laughing. I sigh and sink back into my seat with a giggle. At least I've managed to entertain someone in my delirium.

The last few hours of the drive pass by in a music-induced haze until we reach the outskirts of Columbus. I can see a handful of skyscrapers that line the two rivers at the center of Columbus, and the entire city seems to glow with the verdant greens of early summer. The highway slows as rush-hour traffic merges on and I eye Google Maps. The apartment I'll be sharing with Chloe and our other roommate is located in a section of Columbus called the "Near North," just outside of downtown. Chloe already spent twenty minutes on the phone rambling about the amazing coffee shops, museums, and vintage stores within walking distance of our apartment. I can't wait to explore the city.

Following the Google Map lady's polite instructions, I turn off of the main drag down a narrow street lined with cars. Brick rowhouses fill the city, shadowed by ancient maple trees that lend relief from the humid summer sun. Black cast-iron lampposts and tasteful shrubbery accompany the trees and well-groomed sidewalks, and I breathe a dreamy sigh. I can call this place home.

I don't realize how distracted I've grown by my surroundings until Dad beeps from behind me and I notice a line of angry drivers who want to eat dinner, not follow my whimsical ramblings. I grin at him in my rearview mirror and speed up, watching for my new street, Thornwood Avenue. When I see it, I take a right turn and wave a goodbye to the enraged drivers behind me. I slow the car and eye the bronze numbers on the doors: 414, 413, 412, 411. I pull into the narrow parking lot, grateful to avoid parallel parking, and clamber out of the car.

Dad pulls in behind me as I struggle to get my legs underneath me, my butt asleep from five hours straight in the leather seat. I stretch my legs and wiggle my toes as I step onto the brick pavers of the sidewalk. Humidity slaps me across the face and without looking in the mirror, I know my short curls are already going haywire.

"So what do you think?" Dad asks, stretching one arm above his head and then rolling his shoulders. "It's a better neighborhood than I expected."

Prior to the move, Mom made sure to scout out the neighborhood Chloe lives in, checking crime rates, burglaries, average income, and more. Luckily, thanks to having three roommates, we can afford to live in this middle-class section of the city.

I sigh. "Dad, it's perfect."

"Ready?" he asks, touching my shoulder.

I nod and draw in a breath, throwing my cross-body purse over my shoulder with my phone, wallet, and keys. 411 Thornwood Avenue awaits. Dad follows behind me, and I know without looking that he's checking for things like water leaks and heating ventilation. I traipse up the first three staircases until I reach our door. I raise my knuckles and pause for a second, trading a look with Dad. This is it.

As soon as I knock on the door, it springs open, and a can of confetti explodes in my face. "Surprise!"

Once the shards of paper clear from my eyes, I laugh in delight and jump into Chloe's waiting embrace. Her springy curls hit me in the face as I squeeze the living daylights out of her. However, when I see who's behind her, I shove her out of the way.

"Jord?" I scream.

I haven't seen my best friend and roommate in over six months with the twins hitting their terrible twos and her and her husband living five hours away from my parents' house. She grins at me, throwing her arms wide.

"Surprise!"
"Oh my gosh," I squeal in her ear. "I had no idea you guys were going to be here!"

"That's why it's called a surprise, genius," she retorts.

I reach for Luis, Jordan's husband of three years and old college boyfriend, and hug him as well, despite the diaper bag slung over his shoulder. Then I squat on the floor to greet their two little girls, Sofia and Lucia. Both girls have Jordan's soft, round eyes and Luis's dark hair and olive complexion.

"Hi, girls," I say, admiring their matching braids and plaid dresses. "It's good to see you!"

"Aunty Rachel!" Lucia squeals and hugs me while Sofia blinks at me from beneath dark lashes.

I spring up again and spin in a circle with Lucia in my arms. "Guys, this is...it's so good to see you!" I heave a sigh, every ounce of discontentment gone.

"Rachel Evans, speechless? That's hard to believe," Jordan teases.

I smile so hard that my cheeks start to hurt, and I forget to even look at the apartment. From the doorway, Dad clears his throat, and I recruit the whole gang to help unpack my stuff. We deposit the extra furniture and boxes in the remaining bedroom, an unexceptional room with a broad window and double closet. Thanks to all the extra help, it only takes a few hours before Dad is ready to begin the drive home before dinner. I walk him out to the truck.

"Well? Are you happy?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe of the truck and smiling at me, his dark eyes crinkled.

I smile again, my cheeks hurting. For the first time in as long as I can remember, my heart is full. Jordan, Chloe, and Luis, three of my closest friends from college, are all here, bringing me back to the best years of my life.

"I'm so happy, Dad."

Dad's laugh lines around his eyes deepen as he reaches for my arm and pulls me against his chest. "I'm glad, sweet pea. I think this is the right move for you."

"I hope so," I whisper.

Dad climbs back in the truck and waves me goodbye, and even though I've lived away from home before, it's still bittersweet to watch his F250 disappear in the bronzed evening sky. The last thread of my safety net drives away.

I return to the apartment where Jordan is unpacking a Papa John's pizza and passing out breadsticks. Lucia and Sofia already have spaghetti sauce painted on their faces and hands, and Luis chugs a Mountain Dew.

I jump on the sectional couch after getting a piece of pizza and bottle of water from the fridge. The living room is small, but Chloe and our other roommate have decorated the walls with a world map and a watercolor of a forest vista. Luis curls up on the floor with the twins and Chloe and Jordan sit on either side of me. I think about the picture in a frame inside a box somewhere that shows our college crew: me, Chloe, Jordan, Luis, and Josh. Even with these friends here, or maybe especially because they're here, I feel Josh's absence, the final missing piece to this picture.

When the sky starts to darken through the bay window, Luis bids us goodbye and takes the twins to the hotel, and Jordan, Chloe, and I are left alone.

Jordan sits cross-legged beside me, rotating so we're facing. "So Rach, walk me through this. Your boyfriend proposed, you said no, and you rooted up your life and came here? All in less than a month? You realize this screams quarter life crisis, right?"

Her summary makes me snort. "Yeah, I guess that about sums it up. Here I am."

"How are you feeling now?" Chloe asks, her near-black eyes narrowed and discerning.

I sigh. "I mean, I'm alright. I didn't expect to leave everything behind and move away from home. Honestly, I still can't believe I'm actually here."

"I'm surprised that you're veering off your five year plan," Jordan teases.

I cringe--my five year plan has long been discarded and definitely didn't include quitting my job and moving a state away. "Yeah, no more five year plans for me."

"Plans are for losers anyways. I didn't plan on having two baby girls by 25," Jordan adds.

"Well, at least you're still the queen of the lizard world." I grin--in college, Jordan was obsessed with herpetology and spent more time with reptiles than human beings. Now, despite raising the toddlers, she's an adjunct at a local college teaching biology classes.

"Not gonna lie, they poop a lot less than the twins."

I laugh and fall back against the couch so my head is propped against the back cushion. "Am I crazy? For moving out here?"

"Yeah, a little," Jordan says, "but I'm not complaining. Now I can come bother you guys every weekend and leave the kids with Luis."

"I still can't believe you're the first one of us to have kids," I say with a laugh.

Of all people, Jordan would have chosen herself most likely to stay single for life, yet here we are. Granted, I didn't expect to be single in a new city at 24 either. Even best laid plans can go astray.

"I think you needed the change," Chloe says, "I mean, a chance to try again. After everything."

Her words bring an image of Josh before me, the colors faded with time but every feature, every dimple and scar, seared in my memory. He was the last time I flew, the last time I fell, and the last time I broke. And after four years, I need to try again.

~~~~~

Aren't Luis and Jordan's little girls adorable??? What do you guys think? Did Rachel make the right choice moving to a new state? Let me know in the comments!