The Good Kind of Empty

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The other day I was stuck in traffic and I just... I don't know, started thinking about happiness. Like what even is it, you know? Everyone's running around chasing this huge thing, but maybe it's smaller than we think. Maybe it's just a walk somewhere quiet with no one texting you, no deadlines eating at the back of your brain. Just you and decent weather and your footsteps. That's it. ??????? If I could disappear for a day — like actually vanish, no questions asked — I'd leave before the sun comes up. Just grab my keys and go. No destination, no little blue dot on Google Maps bossing me around. I'd just drive till the city shrinks in the rearview and the road gets that empty feeling. The good kind of empty. I'd find one of those small towns where time moves different. You know the ones — they've got a diner with foggy windows and vinyl booths that squeak when you sit down. The waitress would call me "hon" and wouldn't ask why I'm there. I'd order coffee that tastes like it's been sitting too long and a slice of pie I'm not even hungry for. Apple, probably. Maybe cherry. And I'd just sit there pretending I've always lived in that town, like I wasn't a stranger at all. After that I'd walk. Somewhere with trees, maybe near water. One of those trails that smells like pine needles and dirt and something you can't quite name. I wouldn't think about work or what I'm supposed to be doing or who I'm letting down. I'd just think about nothing. Or everything. Whatever came up. No rush to be anywhere. No mask to wear. That sounds like peace to me, honestly. Just breathing and being a person for a minute. Where would you go if you could just... disappear for a day? No consequences, no one asking where you went.