I think I know where you are, he says

Past the clear creek, the rocks electric with lichen, the balding mountain peaks is my past. It’s strange being near my boyfriend’s hometown and not having him here with me – like I’ve left my mallard in a tar pit. We traveled this country so many times together taking the lemhi valley highway from Bellevue, ID to Missoula, MT. The valleys a flat mouth with razor molars on either side. Two more days and we’ll be on the river. Today is a prep day, a drive day, the last thank god – my body is beginning to clench and gnaw from 6 days in the road. Can you believe in that time I’ve traveled over 2,000 miles. On my boney ass!
Anyway, tomorrow we will rig. Wednesday we set off on the water. A week ago I turned 28. There is still so much baggage and miles of boredom and flat country hasn’t help to lighten the load. But this morning I said ‘not today’ I’m too tired. I’m too sore. I’m too remeniscent thinking of my boy and the highway we traveled parallel to this road I’m on now. In a sense it was and is the same life. But coming back now, it no wonder I’m taking a different path. I am different and so is he. I see the winters, the summers, the springs we went through together. We are still on this thing together – he and I. I see him in the sagebrush.

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