The Boomerang Girl

I thought that I had made it out of Whiton, the road was open to me and the world felt larger than ever. I rolled my window down, and felt the crisp, chill wind against my face. But instead of the clean scent of fresh air and grass my nose was assaulted by the scent of smoke and my already stinging eyes burned with the smoke I hadn't realized was eminating from my cars engine.
A faint chug-chhhhh whine wheezed from under the hood of my car as I coasted to the side of the road. My car had officially died.
I threw open the door, slamming it hard behind me as I cursed my frustration, kicking aimlessly at the tires until I nearly tripped- instead I sat down, hard, on the ground. Small poufs of dust rose up around me and I watched as the sunlight made them shimmer.
What the hell was I doing? Why was I leaving again? Maybe, I thought, this was a sign. A sign that I was just going to screw myself up if I went to Texas. But I wanted to know where I belonged so badly.
I longed for Samantha; for one of our long, analytical disscussions that somehow always clarified exactly what I was thinking. She could always point out when I was being flighty or unreasonable. Sam had the talent for tearing a situation down to the truth. She gave me the truth, and then allowed me to do with it whatever I decided, but most importantly she stuck by me through the fallout.
Sitting out there on the ground, in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas I realized I didn't have a clue what I was doing. In all that I prided myself in being focused and centered, somewhere along the road out of Whiton I had lost that knowlege of myself.
So, I stood, brushing the dust from my jeans, swiped my cell phone from my car and called Sam, prepared to beg for forgiveness and praying for her understanding.
As the phone rang I couldn't help but realize that less than an hour from the time I had thrown myself from Whiton I was coming back (however unwillingly)- I was the boomerang girl.