Descendant of the Original

That’s everything. My car looks like I live in it now but everything I own that means anything to me is now in this car. I’ve lived in California for the last six years of my life, working at the biggest law firm in the city of Los Angeles. I’ve enjoyed working, enjoyed law but something has always felt... off. Have you ever just felt, I don’t know.... off? Like there’s something out there waiting for you, yet you don’t know what it is? It’s like you're looking and wanting more but feel guilty because the life you have is.... well good.

I have a good life, good job, good apartment, good boyfriend, just good. So what’s wrong with all this discontentment I keep feeling? This need for more, this feeling that there’s something out there for me or somewhere, just waiting for me but I have no clue what or where. I grew up in a town called Black Forest, Co. It’s about thirty minutes outside of Colorado Springs, with my grandparents. They raised me since I was the age of twelve. My parents died in an automobile accident and I was left an orphan... again. My parents never hid the fact that I was adopted. My mother said she knew as soon as she seen my face that I was supposed to be with them. That she knew she was destined to be my mother. At the age of three, I couldn't argue. Hell, I didn't even remember anything at that age.

I loved my parents with everything in me. My dad was a neurosurgeon and my mom was a lawyer, hence my need to follow in her footsteps. When they died, I was left with a hefty trust so I would never need for anything for the rest of my life but my need for more overcame my need to stay. So I left and went to law school at UCLA and worked my way up at the law firm at the same time.

That is until my phone rang. My grandmother has passed away suddenly, by heart attack. She was pruning her vegetable garden when it happened and that’s where grandad found her. There was nothing that could have been done by that time. He’s heartbroken, I’m heartbroken and while looking at the last photo of the two of us on my mantle, the one where me and grandma are making pies last Christmas and are all covered in flour head to toe, grinning like fools, I decided it's time. It's time I go home.

I call Chad, my boyfriend of the last six months and tell him it’s over. He's flabbergasted.

“What do you mean it’s over? Baby, what’s going on?”

“My grandma just died and I’m headed back home.”

“Okay, then we can go for the funeral. I’ll go with you but there’s no need to end it, end us. We are good together.”

We actually are good together but only in business. We work together, that’s how we met. He asked me out and it went from there. I was lonely and wanted more but in the bedroom... let’s just say he’s seriously lacking some skills. I need something other than a nice night of making love in the same old missionary position. I need something more than vanilla. I thought he’d get better with time, that we just have to get to know each other more. Yeah, six months in and I’m still waiting for those tingles, that fire that makes you just want to throw out all rhyme and reason. I just need more.

What makes me feel bad is he’s a good guy and I’m fixing to give him that all American “it’s not you, it’s me” speech because well... it is. He deserves better than me. He’s tall, keeps himself in pretty good shape, blonde hair, crystal blue eyes and a smile I’m sure that would wet someone’s panties in a heartbeat, just not mine. He’s good looking, a good kisser and he’s damn good to me. I know this and still, I want more. What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’ve already sent in my notice, Chad. My grandpa needs me. It's time I go back home for good. You and I just won’t work.”

“Bex, please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry Chad. Really, it’s not you, it me. I have to do this.”

“Really Bexley? The it’s not you, it’s me excuse? You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“I know it’s cliché, but it’s the truth. You deserve better than me on my best day. I’m sorry Chad.”

“Me too Bex, me too.”

Looking at the apartment I have lived in for the past six years, I feel a little bit of excitement knowing I’m leaving. I know I’m leaving under heartache but I have excitement of not knowing what the future holds and possibly finding what I’m looking for. The possibility of finding whatever it is that will calm this craving down in my mind and soul. I mean come on, I can’t feel this discontentment the rest of my life can I?

I walk out, shut the door behind me and never turn back. It’s not in me to change my mind once it’s made up. Rarely do I ever change my mind. That’s probably why Chad didn’t fight too much harder with me on this. He knows how stubborn I am. I know he will find someone that will make him happy, someone that he will fall in love with. The one that was made for him. I’m just not that person.

Let’s get this show started. Got a lot of miles to travel and a short time to get there. I hop into my carbon black metallic BMW M850i and take off down the road. I take one last look around LA. While driving through, on one side I see the ocean, the guys running through the sand in shorts that hang low, girls barely wearing anything trying to get their tan on, and further down on the other part, I see the busy businesses. The stuck up people who could care less who you are. The ones whose noses are constantly in their phone, headed to the next meeting or court date. I roll my window down and breathe the smell of the salty air. It’s been real LA, but it’s time for me to go. I see the exit for the interstate and head that way.

I already know I’ll stop when I get tired and not a minute sooner. The faster I can get away from Los Angeles, the better. Goodbye LA, you been good to me but I need more. I turn on my Bluetooth to my radio and start to play my travel list. It’s the upbeat songs that will keep you awake no matter what hour of the day. Singing to the beat, I start my journey back home. I sure do hope they are ready for me, cause I’m on my way.