LAST STOP till MEXICO

As I neared the Mexican border I felt the urge to enjoy a farewell taste of Americana at the nearest convenience store. I pulled in and parked at gas pump number six. Gas was not necessary being that the three fourths I had was more than enough to get to my destination. Even if I did run low I could tap into the jug of fuel I had in the trunk that would later be used to ignite the gray Ford contour into a mass of flames. As the miles between my homeland of the United States and my future freedom of Mexico dwindled, I found myself becoming unusually picky as to which convenience store to choose. That had led me to this Shell Mart. BP was over looked due to extending out the Acronym to British Petroleum. No way was I to enjoy my last stop in an American convenience store to a British fuel refinery. Just gazing at the big ass yellow shell sign brought a lump to my throat as I held back my American pride knowing that after today I would never step foot on her soil again. My current circumstances were all my doings, but my fate was something I still could not wrap my conscious around. I had it all, but never felt that way until this moment. The feeling I had for my past life had been drowned out by my present need of survival. The past was just as that of any other history; I was to never be that person again. Realizing that individual is who I wanted to be more than anything now, did not bring me any closer to that reality. I can’t describe the Texas atmosphere at the time. I have no recollection of the humid Texas air, the thin cloud of dust covering everything or the looming clouds tempting the vegetation with the hope of a feast but exiting just as the plants cried of starvation. My heart was dominating my senses. No sight, No touch, No hearing. I was switched off to the surrounding world. Focused on me, focused on this trip, focused on survival. It was not common for me to have these self absorbed feelings, but this time was different. My decisions were not my own. I had been forced to continue this path. Motivated by fear and overcome by doubt. I don’t think I will complete my journey. I have not moved since pulling up to gas pump number six but I have started to feel further away than before. Suddenly I can’t see the finish line. I might as well be in Canada opposed to southern Texas. Truth being, fleeing to Mexico is not my solution. To be able to continue I have to trace back the facts and peel back the underlying faction. I entered Shell Mart and spotted the restroom. While attempting to clear a permanent piss ring in the urinal with a fresh hot steady stream I had an epiphany. I washed my hands for the first time in my life for hygienic reasons and not because someone else was around watching me. My hands were clean now. Now they have to believe that. But I can’t wait for that realization, I have to show them or even force them. I purchased a fountain drink and bag of chips. Leaving the store was when I joined the rest of the world and became a part of the environment around me. I instantly felt the humidity and tasted the dust on my lips. Entering the car, my mind was made up and the Mexican border was not on the agenda. I gathered my breath and pulled off, immediately completing a full circle in the parking lot, to arrive yet again at gas pump number six. Seven dollars and thirteen cents later, I had a full tank and a purpose with a half ass plan on how to regain my life that I just understood was worth living five minutes ago.