Page 209 of Mountain Boss

I breathe in the thick, humid air.

This is the last place I lived with my mom inside that RV.

The same RV shimmering to existence before me.

The brown and tan coloring is the same.

The off-white curtains hanging on the inside of the windows are the same.

The silver sun reflector propped on the dashboard, spread across the length of the windshield, just how I remember it.

I watch as high school me opens the side door.

She jumps down the step… and suddenly, she and I are the same.

I’m standing with my back to the RV.

And I’m just… so fucking over it.

So over living like this.

I want a house.

I want a house with space and rooms and privacy and furniture that I don’t even use because my home is bigger than what’s necessary, but it’s still what I need.

I clench my fists, grit my teeth, and scream silently in my head.

And the desperate feeling that I felt then.

That I still feel now…

It’s so fucking real.

It’s so fucking real.

The need for freedom and escape but also for someone to take care of me.

The need for someone to just take care of me.

For someone to give to me freely. With abandon.

For someone to share without strings or guilt.

For a place to call home.

Toreallycall home.

I want to tell my younger self that it’s okay.

That we get out and make our way.

I want to tell her that we find what we need.

I want to lie to her.

I want to tell her that we’ve built that house.

I want to tell her that I have a big walk-in shower.

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