A Quiet Piece of Longing – Fifteen – The End

I was driving through New Mexico. Months had passed without a word from anyone. I hadn’t even stopped anywhere or gone on other adventures. I had become a lone wolf, passing by in the background, not known by anyone. But it wasn’t too bad. I was enjoying the isolation.

By now, I had been all over the United States. Seen everything. Met everyone. When was this adventure going to come to an end? It was starting to get boring. Empty. I needed something to break the cycle. Whether that be a new person or a new drug.

Though, it was ruined by a single phone call. “Hey Isaiah.” It was Cassandra.

“Why are you calling?”

“I just wanted to speak to you again. It’s been a while. Are you still doing the traveling thing?”

“Yeah. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. I just wanna talk.”

I sighed. “It’s been lonely lately.”

“Really? I guess that’s a common thing.”
“I haven’t really met anyone. I’ve just been continuing on the road.”

“Well, you stop by any fun places?”
“Listen, are you trying to get back together with me? Bring me home? I don’t understand why you’re calling.”

“…Do you not want to talk to me?”

“No! It’s not that! I mean—it’s just… strange, is all.”

“You’re an important person in my life. I know we’ve broken up, but I still care about you. And plus, I never got a goodbye.”

“You’re right. And I should’ve said goodbye.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Cass, can I tell you something?”

“What is it?”

“I was tired.” I said. “Of it all. My life never worked out. I had no real dreams or purpose there. And then the miscarriage happened, and I snapped. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, you know. Do you forgive me?”

“Yeah. Of course I forgive you.” On the road in front of me, appeared a dead armadillo. Blood spattered the asphalt. It was crushed into multiple pieces. A life, lost in meaninglessness. “Hey Cass, I’m gonna let you go now, okay? Talk later?”

“Sure. Talk later.”

I stepped out and walked over to the armadillo. And for some reason, without being high, without being under anyone’s influence, I started to cry. I didn’t know why I was crying at first, and it bothered me. But the more I looked at the armadillo, the more the tears fell. Until I began to sob.

I laid down on the road having a mental breakdown. I scratched and clawed at my skin. My face was red. I grabbed the armadillo and carried it to the dirt. I began to dig a grave with my bare hands. I dug and dug. By the end of it, my nails were cracked and bleeding, and were caked with dirt.

But I placed the armadillo in there, and began to cover it up. It was sunset and no cars had come. I was all alone out there. I spent the night sobbing next to the grave, and staring up at the stars. I fell asleep sometime around midnight. But the crying never stopped. When I woke up in the morning, I was still crying.

I wiped my tears and climbed back inside my car. I turned around. I didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew where I was headed. I was going home. And I was going to call Cassandra. And the tears continued to flow.