Deciding to walk home was a better choice. Acts that appear to be selfless build a good reputation, even if they are purely for your own benefit. He probably would have had no better pleasure that Sunday morning than to drive me those short five miles. Seven minutes of human interaction he has now missed out on. Although he will surely feel guilty for not being there to offer me a ride when I snuck out the side door, he will look at me as a bigger man when I later explain that it was my choice to let him rest. That I enjoyed the walk, it gave me time to think and raise my cardiovascular tollerance. He will feel he did me a favor by sleeping in. I will avoid seven minutes of awkward small talk and popintless radio talk shows whenever the opprotunity presents itself. I did get time to think, that was great. Recollecting memories so recent, yet distant enough to look back on. Knowing it happened only hours ago, but it is still over and waiting to be retold, recycled, turned into something new with a better, more efficient use. Maybe one day there will be morals to all those choices. Maybe one day regret. None of it mattered because that was still to come. What mattered was what had already happened. What was written in the books. They could always be erased, but the indents of the pencil still showing up as clear as the lead itself.
I walked along the highway, the wind of the passing cars watering my eyes. Artificial wind. Constant waves of air with each car. Their stories each bringing tears to my eyes, even though I couldn't tell which cars were tears of joy or sadness. I new what my own were, but these were not mine. I was stealing them from the passing drivers. Taking away a wieght off their shoulders. I was the example. I gave them something to look down on. They were higher up than me. They were moving withought their feet on the ground, floating. I was stuck on Earth with my time moving slower. I had so much more to look forward at, while they could see their end in sight. It probably made some excited while others mourned their finish. I helped more than myself that day. I helped the ones who realized they were ahead. That there was always the person behind them in line. It made me smile just to think it. I smiled all the way down the path. Smiled past the young girls chatting nonsense, past the men passing around smokes, past the bike riders and dog walkers. I smiled all the way to the front steps. As I pulled open the door I felt the smile fade. Realizing it was over. It was all over.