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Nomad Chronicles, The Third Saga - Love, Sacrifice, and Lethargy

 The day was slowly approaching as I would routinely finish my work every night, soon I would have to leave South Carolina and continue my journey westward. During the latter two weeks of my stay in South Carolina I'd began nursing a small kitten who for the majority of our time together didn't have a name.

 He was a small, fragile thing, just a little ball of black fur and barely even a belly on him. He had dark blue eyes that looked at you longingly and the tiniest little ears that would leer backwards when I would feed him. His tiny tail was perpetually straightened or reeled into his crotch when I would have to pick him up to feed or clean him. His claws could hardly scratch me, but only really functioned to grab onto my hand or shirt. His infantile teeth were still coming in, he would nibble at my fingers and learned that my hands were a source of food quickly, trying to suckle them as he should have been suckling his mother who abandoned him.
 I would feed him formula twice a day before the hostess came home, and the hostess would feed him in the evening and small hours of the morning. You knew when it was time to feed him because he would cry, alot and constantly. 
 It eventually became a routine where I would have his formula ready by the time he started crying, I would set napkins and a washcloth on my lap. For the first week he would inhale however much formula I gave him, once we establish how I was going to hold him. My hand would be covered in little scratch as the bottle fell out of his mouth and he fell asleep in my grasp. I would also burp him, much of the time he would defacate a massive amount for a creature that size and the smell would be as putrid as he was adorable.
 After the first week or so I would take him out of his cage to play when he wasn't napping, we would play peek-a-boo with him running to different sides of the cage to avoid me. The first time I made the mistake of putting him on my bed so he could hide in the comforter. He wasn't litterbox trained yet, as he was still an infant, luckily for me it was time to wash the sheets anyway.
 The day eventually came where I had to leave, my hostess had been absolutely wonderful, I didn't mind the driving, and the people were generally nice. That being said, I missed that kitten a lot, I still do. I'd have brought him with me if I had a destination, if I weren't wandering and if I had a home to give him. It's kept me up a few nights because he depended on me and I had to leave him. I felt like a garbage person.
 The mountains were daunting until I was out of them. I'd taken a part of this journey before during a drive to Asheville to see a friend and former boss, so I knew that my car would cease to accelerate for a little while, I knew there were steep drops and I knew how to handle them.
 During my drive through the Appalachians I stopped for breakfast, I wasn't ready for the feeling of getting out of my car along the mountainside. It felt like I was high up, like there was nothing holding me down, and that I could fall at any moment. Most everyone else was mildly annoyed by their day to day tasks, and I did my best to be polite, but I was freaking out inside. I hate heights. I went through two tunnels which was easy for me, I slowed down when advised. This wasn't a Florida highway, I couldn't just go fast and zip through traffic like a typical Florida Man. I had to mind my breaks, tapping them occasionally to stop in time and pay attention to my speed at the same time. 
 Along the way there was breathtaking scenery of trees along the mountainside, as well as ledges that really put my phobia to the test. I was afraid, but I was facing my fears in a way that was gauged and safe. I had fear, but I was handling it in a way that I feel was right.
 Then there was the call of the void, one turn that was somewhat sharp called to me, invited me to drive through, my life would be over in a matter of minutes, minutes which would feel like an eternity, an eternity which I would spend alone. I would be combating my fear, managing my mania, and experiencing several emotions all at once. It promised a rush like nothing else and an end to the suffering that is ones journey through life. As I'm sure you can guess, I declined.
 I arrived in Jeffersonville, Indiana in the early evening, the house was seemingly empty at first. 
 It was a two story house, a good size, more than someone like me would ever need, there were several plants all about and little notes left for guests to learn more about the hostess and the additional services she offered, which included a gift shop and yoga lessons.
 I went up to my room on the second floor, bringing my suitcase and things I use to wash. When I was finished I met the hostess outside of my room, a beautiful young woman named Tamyra, she was preparing to teach her yoga class and her yoga apparel complemented her form quite well. I was enamored but I kept my thoughts to myself.
 I'm not sure what you, my dear reader know about my appearance, but it's woefully apparent to those who see me that I do not practice yoga. Keeping this in mind, she invited me to a free class and assured me that I could make it through the class with ease.
 I drove to Louisville, it was a beautiful city until you saw all of the political propaganda. The architecture covered in the nonsense was as egregious as a wise man being mocked as a fool, as a lovely women berated as a pig, and love being toted as a product to be bought.
 Eventually I arrived at the studio only to be greeted by a full parking lot, limited as the parking was along the busy street, I wasn't surprised, although I was a little disappointed. Yoga is something I'd tried and failed at many times before, and I'm always open to getting back up on that horse and trying again. Sadly today would not be that day.
 I showered, called it an early night, and went to bed.
 The next day started very early, and my drive to O'Fallon was uneventful, the cliffs along the way were beautiful, the threats of thousand dollar fines for speeding were real. All I could think of was the kitten, leaving him hurt and I couldn't help but remember something that a man far wiser than myself once said to me, "Saying yes to one thing sometimes means saying no to everything else."
 By the time I left South Carolina the kitten had a name, his name was Sprint, and I miss that kitten. I don't know if this qualifies as a sacrifice, but I hope that such a thing means that I'll find what I'm looking for, or will know what it is that I'm looking for. I have an idea of what I'm running away from, even if I can't put it into words.
 By the time I arrived into Illinois I had a million things to do, but all I could think about was the friend I'd left behind, it's all I can think about now save for the heat. Hopefully better things are to come.

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𝓐𝔭𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔩's profile picture

I'm sure your little buddy will be okay and find a happy home.😊

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Thank you, I hope so too 🥺😢

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