When We Run Away Together.

The first thing I want to do when we run away together is to be able to sit in a long car ride with you. 

It may sound boring, but it's the first thing I want to do with you. 

It's late at night, the air outside of the car is especially chilly, but the inside is a toasty warm.  I want to sit with you, in one of those peaceful car silences and a drowsy awareness of where I am. With the radio on low, playing the next big pop song, that you would only listen to because it's on the only radio channel that works. 

It's maybe ten or eleven, and we've already downed at least four steaming hot cups of coffee. 

That's burnt our tongues at least twice. 

As you drive the car, I want to hold your other hand. 

I want to feel that sleepy car ride feeling with you. 

I think you know the feeling I'm talking about. 

and I don't know why, but the thought of us, late at night, pulling into a basically deserted gas station sounds oddly appealing to me.  

You go get gas and I explore the small aisles for something to eat, even if it's crappy gas station food. 

Just going on a long car ride with you sounds heavenly, because I get to be in that long car ride with you. 

I'm not sure if this is the first thing you want to do with me, but it's certainly the first thing I want to do with you. 

Because when we finally make it to our destination, collapsing sleepily next to you, sounds like heaven to me.