On Wanting, an autobiographical fiction
Have you ever wanted something so much that it just sits in your soul? Have you ever reached for it so hard that your arms gave out, but it couldn’t be had — not now, not yet?
DiCarlo’s eye’s had that hotness behind them, the kind that comes when you can’t tell which negative emotion comes first: frustration, anger, sadness, or what-have-you. She sat at the red light, hands tightening and loosening their grip on the steering wheel. Breath in. Breath out.
It was just a normal day, driving to work. She’d missed the bus, so there went this week’s gas money, right? And besides, she would have to pay for the good parking. She didn’t have time to walk from way out in the boonies. Being a tardy person did not have its perks.
And she wished she had a hand to hold.
“This is stupid!” she said. “I’m only driving to work!” There is no reason to feel lonely right now.
Here, she took the left turn. She passed another bus stop and wondered if she could park there and wait for the bus. 6:57 am. Nope. She was going to be late as it was.
She thought about nothing for a while. She often wondered how safe a driver she was when she zoned out into autopilot mode. She’d rarely caught herself being risky in those moments, but of course she wasn’t at her most self-aware. She seemed to have a good following distance, and cruise control kept her from speeding. Then she’d wake up, and wonder where the past mile had gone.
Getting a boyfriend is a complicated business. Merge left. To want it too hard is sabotage. And for all DiCarlo was a grown woman, and knew not to be needy, she wanted. For all the years of hoping, and learning to love herself as she was, she couldn’t stop wanting. Get over to the right turn lane. She was already late. Stop daydreaming about being able to make it on time hiking in from free parking. School zone. Slow down. It’s for the kids.
I’ve tried every reasonable thing more times than I can count. I just have to wait.
She was only, like, three minutes late, anyway. There went $7 for parking. And her eyes weren’t even red.
