A day later, Michael and I packed up our things and headed for Virginia. We would stop there, en route to North Carolina to visit my mother, so that I could show him the small town I grew up in. It took us about seven hours to get there and when we arrived it was like I had never left. The place still left a nauseating feeling in my stomach and all I could see were bad memories and everything I hated about the place I had once lived in. Moving from one location to another, never feeling quite settled.

I showed him all of the apartments I had grown up in and the houses that were my landing place for awhile.

We passed the park, which seemed to be the only lovely part about Staunton.

"We could go for a walk in park," he said.

"We could but we still have another six hours until we make it to North Carolina. If we go for a walk we'll get there late," I said. To be honest, I was a bit relieved of the fact.

The park was beautiful and it would've been wonderful to walk with him there, but something about the place made me ill and I couldn't stomach the idea of staying there any longer than I had to