we are driving who knows where,
you in the driver's seat, me in the passenger's side,
map haphazard in my lap.
we've long since stopped navigating,
both holding the belief that no matter what,
we'll end up somewhere beautiful.
so we drive your beat-up pickup down the road
and tell each other crazy stories,
some real, some imagined.
we talk about everything, from our favorite flavor of ice cream,
(yours is mint chip, I'll always remember)
to our hopes and dreams and fears.
I tell you about my worries that I won't ever be able to live the life that I want,
and you tell me about your family, and introduce me to your demons.
we acknowledge each others sorrows and drink sweet tea from the gas station.
and I don't ever want this to end.
I don't know if I could even fathom it. Do you feel the same way?