Member-only story
The Elusive Rush I Get From Endings
The euphoria and adrenaline that is impossible to explain
These days, I like to think I’m a pretty average or above-average driver. The very first time I drove was during driver’s education the summer after my junior year of high school. I had spent so much time criticizing my mom’s driving — she would not maintain a consistent speed and she stopped when she tried to merge on the highway.
I thought I could do a lot better the moment I started, but I was very, very wrong.
I hit the accelerator and was shocked at how sensitive it was — the car jerked forward, and the instructor had to use her brake in the passenger seat to stop us from getting into an accident. I struggled to make left turns and resolved not to during the whole time I drove through residential streets. I came very close to hitting a parked car’s windshield. On a road where the speed limit was 35 miles per hour, I drove 25, struggling to steer clear of the yellow dividing lines with the other side of traffic. Other cars were so infuriated at my slow driving that they illegally passed me on the double yellow lines.
It could not have gone worse. I was incredibly embarrassed, so I resolved to practice and get better. I drove around parking lots with my mom while she sat in the passenger seat, saying nothing…
