She didn’t sleep.
The ideas in her head never stopped running, not even when the sun went down at night. She knew what she wanted, but not how to get it.
It was was an impossible possibility that she would ever find happiness.
With dark circles under her eyes and thinning hair, she would lie over her covers. Just incase she got enough courage to leave in the middle of the night. Staring out the window, she thought of driving while she waited for the sun to wake up.
Driving for hours with no place to go.
She’d pack cigarettes, pictures of her dog, and enough money to get her as far away from here as possible. She would look for love in all the wrong places; the bars, strip clubs, diners and the weathered motels she would stop in at along the way. She’d Fall in love with a stranger, they’d fight and fuck night after night, until one of them got sick of it and left.
She’d blow her money on booze and leave the rest for gas, and rundown motel rooms. Driving kept her going. Not knowing where you’re headed left a sense of hope in your heart. Hope of the possibility that something better was waiting for her in the next town, the next county.
Something better than this.
Soon the pills would kick in and she’d go in and out of consciousness. Her perfect dream would scramble and the face of her strange lover would fade, the street signs would dissolve and she’d give up on thinking for the night and close her eyes.