The Long Ride Home

He reached into his blue jeans and his pockets seemed much deeper then usual. The air tasted like menthol and his car ran extra toasty. The streetlights blurred together as he drove down the road. He shook his head a little bit, shook it off. He was bored, he was numb, he was hungry. He slept more but always woke up tired. A stop sign crept up on him at 105th, he boot kicked the brake pedal in its face. His fingers ran down the side of the steering wheel and he stared off into the distance. He hit the gas and drove and drove and drove some more. Glanced over to the passenger side and it hit him like a ton of bricks. The look on his face, wasn't much about what he saw, more so what he didn't see, Her.

Anytime he felt something he couldn't explain, he'd grab his keys and drive. Something about the open road and the air blowing in his face he would tell you. The smell of gasoline and the blaring radio was a temporary sort of calm. He would drive around until that right song came onto the radio. You know the song, the one that your convinced was written for you, the one you would take a detour just to here the whole thing. Sometimes it would come on seconds after you put the keys in, and sometimes it would come on right before you turn off your headlights and park. That's the thrill of it. Life suddenly makes sense once you hear that right song at the right time. He once told me “I may not be the first one with a broken heart, but I sure as shit won't be the last..”.

He had been driving around for about an hour or so. Waiting for it. He drove around till his car was eating fumes. He took the long way home and about half way though his car ride his song indeed came onto the radio. The hair on his arms stood up and the thumping sound in his chest drowned out the song on the radio. For the first time in 8 months, he suddenly didn't feel so alone. “For every broken heart, for every long car ride home, there's a song for you. you'll hear it when you really need to hear it.”

October 04, 2008