Eventually. That’s what they said. Eventually, it will be over, and you will be free. Of course, I never believed them. Years of anticipation ate at me, longing to break away. Years of being stuck in one place, like being trapped in quicksand and escaping only to find the world in ruins. 

I walk down the dirt road, my footprints already there. I’ve walked down this road many times before, but it feels like a distant memory. The end of this road spirals, and I have no clue where it might lead, or who it might lead to. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell myself. The end of this road is such a long way away that it doesn’t matter when it ends, I will think about it when I get there.

How was I supposed to know that the great distance I had no worry of would show up in the blink of an eye? That this journey I have been on since I was 14 would so suddenly come to an end? 

The trees that crowd this once dreadful dirt road appear ten times larger, carrying more memories than I could ever explain. The tree bark morphs into faces, and the leaves take on the image of tears. Tears I have shed on this dirt road. Tears of stress. Tears of joy. Tears of an obstacle that set me back a few steps, only for me to conquer it and emerge greater than I was before. Every quarter of my journey brings an oasis of joy, and I can finally take a break from my treading. This oasis brings a new set of memories, ones that take pleasure in the sunlight, where new friends and new experiences flood in. 

This break is enough to get me back on track, even though I may be dreading the rest of my journey ahead. This is a new start, a new pair of shoes, a new record. This time will be different. I will do things differently. I will do things better. I start out my journey with a new mindset, more experience comes with more organization. Although I believe this encounter to be better, the mindset fades away, and I’m back to my old ways. My new shoes become dirty, and my only hope is to carry on to the next oasis. “Next time will be different”, I tell myself at the beginning of every new beginning. This phrase and reassurance never proves to be true, and I’m always back in quicksand. 

I’m nearing the end of this journey, and I couldn’t be more elated. I also couldn’t be more devastated. These trees hold on to my dear memories, memories that I don’t want to let go of. People that I may never see again, may never talk to again. At the end of my dirt road lies a big 2023. It takes me back to a time when I couldn’t even see the 2023, and I paid no mind to it. I still have a year left of my journey, but If it resembles every other year, it will creep up on me. This journey will come to an end. Eventually.