deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Drive
There he was with his left hand on the steering wheel and his right hand intertwined with her delicate fingers, doing his best to keep his gaze on the open road in front of him. But it was hard to focus on the road ahead when his entire world was to his right, sitting shot gun, bouncing along to the music and playfully capturing his attention.
There was something magical about this dynamic between them. There was this magnetic pull that neither one of them understood or could explain, but neither of them wanted to resist. Somehow, no matter what was happening in their little world or the world around them, it always faded away when they both took their seats in the car, turned up the radio, put the car in drive, and set off for their destination.
It didn’t matter where they were headed or how long the drive lasted. It could have been 5 minutes or 5 hours, the results were always the same. This became their sacred space. There were no need for words, yet they had some of their deepest conversations in those moments. They had a language that only they understood. It could be heard in the subtle glances, smiles, giggles, belly laughs, witty banter, playful touching, and the song lyrics that filled the space between them. It was always here, in this space, that their souls were the most connected. Where they both felt the most comfortable, the safest, the most alive, and the most like themselves.
In the most peculiar and unorthodox way, it felt like home. Something neither of them had or truly felt, anywhere else or with anyone else. This feeling of home and magical connection between them wasn’t confined to four wheels and the road underneath them. No, that magic could be found in both profound and subtle ways whenever they were together. But for reasons beyond explanation, there was something about the blaring music, the wind blowing, the freedom ahead of them, the slight air of danger and the thrill of adventure that always ignited the spark between them. In those moments, anything that had attempted to come between them was quickly carried away and engulfed in the flames that burned bright between them.
There was something magical about this dynamic between them. There was this magnetic pull that neither one of them understood or could explain, but neither of them wanted to resist. Somehow, no matter what was happening in their little world or the world around them, it always faded away when they both took their seats in the car, turned up the radio, put the car in drive, and set off for their destination.
It didn’t matter where they were headed or how long the drive lasted. It could have been 5 minutes or 5 hours, the results were always the same. This became their sacred space. There were no need for words, yet they had some of their deepest conversations in those moments. They had a language that only they understood. It could be heard in the subtle glances, smiles, giggles, belly laughs, witty banter, playful touching, and the song lyrics that filled the space between them. It was always here, in this space, that their souls were the most connected. Where they both felt the most comfortable, the safest, the most alive, and the most like themselves.
In the most peculiar and unorthodox way, it felt like home. Something neither of them had or truly felt, anywhere else or with anyone else. This feeling of home and magical connection between them wasn’t confined to four wheels and the road underneath them. No, that magic could be found in both profound and subtle ways whenever they were together. But for reasons beyond explanation, there was something about the blaring music, the wind blowing, the freedom ahead of them, the slight air of danger and the thrill of adventure that always ignited the spark between them. In those moments, anything that had attempted to come between them was quickly carried away and engulfed in the flames that burned bright between them.
Published 19th May 2020
| Edited 31st Jul 2020
Author's Note
Another older one, written for him. This one hurts less. To this day, I still listen to the music we would listen to together. And I can remember the moments that it was good. In some ways, he truly was my best friend.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7
reading list entries 1
comments 14
reads 564
Commenting Preference:
The author has chosen not to accept comments.
