I hate long bus rides.

On my 8-hour bus ride up to norcal, i am forced to choose between sleep, music, look out the window, think, or some combination of those. And with my eyes closed, drifting off between delirium of dream and memories, images of her, she and i, her and him, and her and him flashes on repeat. straight to my heart it pounds. and it felt like the longest 8-hour bus ride could ever be.