The Road

We've been driving for a while, and it just hasn't stopped, in fact it's only gotten stronger. It's basically coming down in buckets, as they'd say.

As the wipers go on overtime and the rain hits my window, I'm unable to see outside properly though the fogged up glass. 

I don't know how he's even driving?

I look to my right and see him focussing hard, trying to make sure we stay on the road. I'm not sure we're going to be able to though. On a road things can change, for better or for worse, but I don't know. Sometimes it's better to get off earlier than expected.

Rain,
Raining,
Falling,
Pouring.

There's music, but it's drowned out, by what my mother would have called, 'the angels tears'.

Angels?

I never believed in things like that, Heaven, God, Hell or The Devil. And I still don't believed in them. But angels...

Angels...

Looking out the window, I see other cars going by and wonder what those peoples' stories are. If one of them is looking at this car and wondering the same thing? Strangers passing in the night, journeys colliding momentarily.

What would my journey so far be if looked at like a movie, through the lens of the future.

For about the first 2 decades of your life you're taken care of, but towards the end of that period you start to realise it won't always be like this. That at some point you're going to have to start fending for yourself, start getting ready for the big world out there, because it won't always be like this.

I figured this out at a very young age, and started preparing for it. And because of this I became more mature, quicker than others. I became the friend that skipped out on a lot of things because I knew the outcome, or because I didn't want to risk getting hurt. Doing stupid shit just for the laughs was in fact not something I was fond of.

And that hadn't changed the older I got, if anything it only got worse as the years went on. It was just how I'd conditioned myself to be, to act, to think. I studied hard, for my parents and for myself. I had a goal, a goal to be perfect so I would be prepared for whatever the world threw at me.

But I soon figured out that those things didn't really matter in this world. Sure they'd help with a few things, but not the important ones, and I learnt that the hard way.

I left home and went to college. My parents saying they'd pay for it, but only 75%. They said I had to learn to get out more, to make new friends. Their exact words had been, 'Do what kids your age are actually doing'. 

So I got a part time job, working at a café near my college. It was a placed I'd visit often, to study and get a cup of coffee, I liked the feel of the place. It was welcoming and reminded me a little of home.

But... there had also been a certain boy that had caught my eye. He seemed so happy all the time, smiling and laughing, but a bit shy. I found him so fascinating and cute, especially when he wore his glasses. He'd only taken my order a few times, and every time felt like a gift.

But I hadn't only gone to work there because of a boy, I wanted to get some knowledge of the real world and how it worked, and to help support myself. So I went and applied for a job there, and the very next week I found myself wearing an apron, walking around delivering and taking orders. I found it to be quite fun, for the most part. I loved the feeling I got when helping someone, even if it was just giving them a cup of coffee, I was helping in some way.

I had also got to know the fascinating boy and we become friends. I found out that we actually went to the same college, but he was two years older than me. He was truly all he portrayed, he was kind, friendly and had such a beautiful smile.

Months passed and we grew closer, getting to know each other and I grew to really care about him. A year passed and we found ourselves stealing kisses in the storage room, never being able to get enough of each other. He was new and adventurous, and I was definitely putting myself out there.

Another year passed and he graduated. He had to quit working at the café and get a higher paying job. We rarely got to see each other, but as much as I missed him I understood that that was how it had to be. Plus I still had two more years left and I had to make sure I kept my grades up.

We'd of course find ways to be together. Sometimes he'd sleep over at my place or I at his. But I knew when the morning came, we'd part ways, not knowing when we'd see each other again. And knowing that, it hurt me every time.

I knew we were young, that we had all the time in the world to be together, but I wasn't thinking about that, who would?

Months passed and we only saw each other a couple of times, him working, me studying. I kept thinking about the beginning of our relationship, the 'bubble'. In the bubble we were the only thing that mattered, the only thing we needed.

But every bubble has to pop at some point. You realise that it won't and can't always be that way, that we are in a world that requires you to be a certain way, to act a certain way, to do things a certain way. And this puts an unhealthy stress on most people and brings them to do things that people shouldn't even have to think about doing.

But we all think that one thought at least once in our lives, even if you say you haven't, we all know it's a lie. But the sad thing is some people act on it, they think they have nothing left, that there's no one left who cares about them. But there is always someone, someone who cares. And even if there isn't then you should, you should care about your well being and love yourself.

That's what I told myself whenever I felt that way. And when I met him, got to know him, it gave me another reason to keep on telling myself that.

A smile pulls at my lips as I stare out the window, the rain continuing to pour like there's no tomorrow. A quiet sigh escapes my lips as I lean my head against the window thinking about our road and it's future, will we find a never ending one or the dead end of a cul-de-sac?

I turn to look at him, carefully looking over his features like I've done a million times before. I watch as his eyebrows crease a bit, showing he's thinking. I wonder what it is? Is it the same as me, or something completely different?

I can't read his mind, and sometimes I wish I could. But then again, wouldn't that make things too easy? Life without chase and adventure, or is it just me who maybe takes life a bit too seriously sometimes?

I don't know where we're going on this road, I don't think I ever will. And it's scary sometimes, it hurts sometimes. But I guess that's the way it'll always be. After all, what it a story without a few twists and turns?