In about a month, I will be driving to my friend’s house. Solo driving for 8 hours, in all kinds of traffic, is nothing to reassure me.
I have done it before, but this time, I am nervous about it. Must an age thing! I used to go places without a moment of anxiety. I have driven to Toronto by myself, with two young kids and no copilot, and I had no concerns in the world, it went without a hitch! … But I was a little than a decade younger than I am now.
Maybe I don’t trust my vehicle to get me to destination and back. Maybe there is anxiety about leaving my kids for a week, maybe my intuition is tickling my consciousness telling me something will happen. I cannot tell, I am simply preoccupied with this trip like I have never been before.
Oh I will go and I will deal with my fretting over it. I need to disconnect, to get away for a few days, to spend time with my best friend.
I need to have a good time with someone who cares.
She is the sister I never had, my first bonding experience outside of my family. It has been nearly 30 years and we still enjoy the same quality of relationship we had when we were teenagers. We are older, more mature in every way… but the unconditional acceptance is still there. We care about each other, we are close, we are a “womance”.