little red mustang
The red mustang that drives thoughts of you around my mind needs a tune-up. It stalls at times and gives me moments to breathe. On occasion, like tonight, the gas pedal sticks and I lose control. I always wonder when the little red mustang will finally give in, when I’ll finally be able to send it to the junkyard, preferably in pieces. Every time I think it’s time, I pull over and fuel it back up.
Tonight it raced me through a scenic route of lighthearted memories. Like the time we drove to the park late at night so we could be alone, giggling and moaning in the moonlight; the adrenaline pumping in our veins as we tried not to get caught. Similar to when we were parked in what we thought was a deserted parking lot, only to be told by an amused security guard to finish up and get going. Or all the times that we drove the familiar route home after work, deciding to stop and eat or do anything at all just to have a reason to be with each other for a little bit longer. This little red car took me to all the times we decided just to sit still inside of it with each other, just being.
On nights like these, I try desperately to regain control of the steering wheel. I drive down the unlit streets shining my high beams, attempting to see the boarded up buildings that house the rejection, the fights, the abuse.
Remember that time you got so mad that you lashed out and broke one of our dining room chairs? Or all the times you yelled and used your “reason” and “logic,” dismissing all of my emotions as if they didn’t matter at all. You wouldn’t let me sleep until I agreed with you, despite how much I’d cry or the fact that I’d have school or work early the next morning. I try hard to recall the constant feeling I had back then of walking on egg shells around you. Everything I’d say you would have a criticism for. I couldn’t mention the most basic aspects of daily life, like eating, without being judged for it.
The problem now is where to drive this fucking car once I’ve remembered. How can I destroy it without continuing to hurt myself in the process?