Drama

I took the few steps from the spot I stood saying goodbye to you, to the car. I couldn’t decide if my legs are too heavy or too jelly-like, but either way they’re betraying me. Unlocked the car, got inside.

“Lock the doors after you, always, anywhere, anytime.”

I heard your voice telling me those just two days ago when you first got into my car. I did just that with a long sigh. I will miss you so much, I thought. Loaded the keys, turned on the ignition. Stepped on the brake pedal. Too far. You’re too tall. Strike two. I sat, not adjusting the seat just yet; trying to take in the micro dents you might’ve left on the seat. Trying to feel where your hands and your legs must’ve fell on the insides of my car that you drove for the first time.

I closed my eyes and reached or the radio blindly. Very loud music filled Elliot and I jumped in my seat. Psycho. Muse’s. Ours. I wouldn’t normally turn my music up this loud, but you were here and we had our road-trip-karaoke sessions, as we do everytime we’re in a car together. When was the last time? June? 9 months ago. I heard how much better the music sounded, you had changed the equalizer from “loud” to “bass”. I hadn’t even realized there was an equalizer button. Why did you fiddle with everything, leaving me with so much to remember?

I skipped to the next song. Adele’s When Will I See You Again. I know not to listen to sad songs when one is sad, but I gave in, and I cried, and I cried. I missed you so much already, it felt physical. Tu me manques, J.

I sat like that for the entire duration of that song and the next two. I remembered that tomorrow was going to Monday, double shot. More long sigh, and I grabbed my phone. Waze. But there was a text from you. “Stop crying and drive safely.”

“Okay.”

“The two days of fun we had is bigger than this one minute of goodbye, sayang.”

“Okay.”

Of course. Of course it is. I set my destination, put the phone in the holder, all set to go. Looked into my side mirror, but you had it closed in. Dude. I didn’t realize there was a button to do just that. You laughed at me for not discovering my own car. I chuckled soundlessly to myself. You left your traces everywhere, why? Why do you have to be gone again..

I looked at the watch you just bought me, “so you can remember me every minute of the day.” Ha, punny. I do. I do remember you every minute of the day.

I drove off, wanting to get on MEX quickly so I can speed my little heart and my little car’s engine out.

You were here for 48 hours to make up for four months. For five years, I’ve been seeing you every day, and never not see you any more than 3 months. This whole LDR thing, terrible business. But you just started working, and I just started working, and this is our first real date, and there will be more to come.

Until the next time that I can see you for what feels like 2 seconds, mon bébé.