My trip home went as well as I could have ever imagined.

It recharged my batteries.

I felt brand new when I came home. And, the thing was, I started to slip. As I passed La Crosse, passed that place I stopped a thousand times to pick up Lucy, my chest tightened up. It was that physical reaction to my own disappointment. But, I fought it off.

I listened to happy songs. I listened to sad songs.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to be sad. I missed Lucy, but that's to be expected. I dated the girl for a year and a half and she actually helped me a lot. I should be sad. Normally I wouldn't allow myself to be upset. It's one thing to not show your emotions to others, but I haven't even shown them to myself. This whole time I've thought the problem I was having was that I was upset, but the actual problem is that I wasn't letting myself be. The last two hours of the drive were the best I've had in a few years. I let myself myself be me. I let the wall crumble.

It has returned, but I still feel better. I finally realize how I want to feel. Pure inspiration.