Normalcy still plagued my thoughts. I had backpacked seemingly endless hours since the Mexican border. Despite their difficulty, they had been the best hours of my life. Still, questions rang in my head. Why am I not like other people I know? Why can’t I be happy with the things that made my parents, my friends, and my siblings happy? Marriage, babies, the nine-to-five, a home? Why do I like to climb things instead? Mountains. Passes. Trees. Canyons. Why do I thrive on the freedom and adventure out here?
