Day One — Leaving Vermont

We're doing it. We're actually doing it. The car is packed, the cooler is wedged behind my seat like a fourth passenger, and Jacob is in the driveway checking the tire pressure for the ninth time because it's easier than saying goodbye to my whole family again.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry.

I was brave.

Abby hugged me so hard I heard something pop, then handed me a bag of snacks and an actual handwritten list of everything I'm going to forget. Ben told me to drive safe and then immediately told me I drive like Grandma, which, from Ben, is basically a love letter. Wesley leaned on the fence the entire time eating an apple like the world's most relaxed farmhand and said, "Don't forget about us. It's just a trip. It's not like you aren't coming back. I'll be right here when you do." Jacob squeezed my hand a little tighter at that one. Down, boy. He's kidding. Probably.

Then Mom caught me at the car and held my face in both hands and told me to call her from every single state, and that I needed to stay safe and drive careful. She eyed Jacob at the last part. I'll always be her Ethan no matter how far the road goes. As if we weren't coming back; the heck? I'm not going to write down what that did to me.

Three thousand miles between this driveway and the Pacific Ocean. A year ago I couldn't say six words out loud about who I was. Now I'm driving across the entire country with the guy I'm stupid in love with.

First stop tomorrow: another country. We don't even have a real plan. It's perfect.

— E