traveler's mind.

im driving home, i am somber. nick drake is playing through the speakers. i travel alone. i am not being followed. the oncoming lights are harsh. though before it was foggy, the lights were soft. romantic. the oncoming travelers only appearing in just enough time to be seen and continue on. i am going fifteen under the recommended limit. i am in no hurry. and parts of the road are icy. i think about my life. how i love you. how great it is that you are my best friend. i think about you, and if anything is anything at all. if anything will be something. my windshield is murky, it will not clear. i slow as each car drives by because i can no longer see the road. i count my breaths. one. two. three. and my eyes are weary. but i am awake. the music fades in and out. up the hill to the red light. i stop slowly. upon rest i count. one. two. three. four. five. upon five the light changes from red to green. i am impressed. all the lights around this town can be timed. half in counting. half in feeling.. i continue on. you enter again. but this time in a new light. and so i weigh my options.. my attention turns to the music.. "now im darker than the deepest sea" echoes through. i feel heavy. the sky is gray. there is no one now. the roads are icy now, slower i travel. safe. my keys rattle from the bumps in the road. there is only one red light on that house.  the rest are white. christmas lights make me think of children, how my parents put them up when we were younger. i travel into thoughts of my life. my future life. how i will not ever have the life i want, and i become saddened. i focus my attention to the reflections on the street. you told me that the streets are usually wet in movies, because it reflects the light. i consider stopping, and going to sit under the pavilion on the snow covered tables, under the single light. but i dont want my shoes wet.  i have to park in the street, i dont know why this bothers me so much. but it does. i make my way into the house, carrying what i chose to bring in, leaving behind what i did not. notify my mother upon my return. i sit down, and i begin to write....