Tonight, I did something I haven't done in a very long time...
Scavenging what little money I had, picking up nickels and dimes off my desk, emptying my rooms coin jar entitled "Longboard" that had definitely been forgotten about, pouring my cup holder full of loose change and receipts into another jar then adding little findings here and there to come up with a total of $7.50. Luckily, I had a few dollar bills stashed around so I finally bumped my fortune to $15.00. This was just enough to get some gas and get out of town.
All day I was incredibly depressed. I sat in my room feeling empty and hollow for a good 2 hours before I realized that I had to get out. After filling up my car to about half, I grabbed tea, a cliff bar, headphones, a phone charger and made my escape towards Vedauwoo. The whole way to the great cliffs, Alps by Novo Amor played. My heart ached.
Fault her further on, all her flaws were gone.
Covered in everything, coveted all at once.
Everything covering, everything all at once. But I would fake, I would hate, I would break every inch of my love. But I would fake, I would hate, I would break every inch of my love, every inch of my love.
Halt her collarbone, All her haunts were home. Covered in everything, coveted all at once. Everything covering, everything all at once.
And I saw the peaks on my own, That you probably meant for us, And I tore the fear from my bones That you probably never lost. And I saw the peaks on my own, That you probably meant for us, And I tore the fear from my bones that you probably never lost.
But I would fake, I would hate, I would break every inch of my love. But I would fake, I would hate, I would break every inch of my love. But I would fake, I would hate, I would break every inch of my love, every inch of my love.
Just a beautiful song. A good crying song I'd say.
Upon my arrival, I was awestruck by the clouds and sun just peering over them. It was like God was telling me how to get to Vedauwoo whether I knew how or not. The rocks glimmered and halfway there, I stopped my car, got out, and admired.
This photo doesn't do it justice as you can see. But that little glimmer of light was shining right onto Vedauwoo.
Eventually, I hopped back into my car, traveled another 10 or so miles and reached my destination. This place was more beautiful than I remembered. I couldn't get over the smell, the birds chirping, the sun shining between the trees. I needed to be here.
I hiked through Turtle Rock Trail for about an hour, documenting the sun, the trees, the greenery. Everything was perfect.
And then I did something I hadn't done in a long time...
I prayed that God would take away this pain. That the poison in my head would dissipate. That these tears would only flow when I am content. That I could learn to be on my own, without fear, without discomfort, without distrust, without loneliness. That I could become my own friend and be satisfied in my own skin without the constant help of others. That I could remember that I am loved, even when the words aren't spoken. That I, Stephanie Tuttle, could find a way out.
I prayed hard. I prayed without breath. I prayed with salt water falling to the ground. I prayed so passionately, I trembled.
I hit my mark on the trail and headed back to my car. I don't remember much about the walk back except that my body felt itchy.
I sat back into my car, this time, Faux by Novo Amor was playing and I admired the view one last time. I headed out towards the highway and on my way home.
Clarity is all I can remember. Just a wave of clarity and peace. I wasn't upset, I wasn't confused, I wasn't alone. I was at peace with myself. This was a feeling that no person, rock, tree, or mountain could provide.
Such a beautiful experience.
Best point of the story? I prayed SO hard I didn't notice I had been eaten alive by mosquitos. Zinka virus anyone? Just kidding. I don't care. It was a positive experience, and I look forward to seeing what God has planned for me. I leave it in his hands now.
Here are the few documented pictures I took while on the trail.
Published by Stephanie Tuttle