I never loved driving as much as I did until I met you.
We would spent nights in the Hills
driving through the unsafe, winding roads
until we reached the end and decided to
change course onto the freeway.
It was free, the moments on the road.
We would reminisce about college
and you would remind me of all of the
parts of me that made you happy
and I would remind you of all of the times you made me laugh.
But you wouldn’t respond, and you would blare your
tropical house music louder in your car
and you would speed an additional fifteen miles over
the speed limit
just to feel the danger of what it was once like
to be with me
when I was younger
and you were so naive about us.
Each time in your car
we would talk about the times apart
what had taken our time in the previous months
who had taken our hearts in the previous weeks
some would say it was catching up,
but it was like saying hello again
because every time we drove the California freeway
in your car
it was like being home again
and each time, we would return to the top of the hills
looking at the glow of the architecturally astounding houses
and the hills would remind me of how much can change in just a few years
because years ago, we would look over these hills, comparing our lives
to what they had once been,
when we would see each other everyday.
I realized our lives together only made sense in your car
and now, sometimes I speed in my car
to see if I can gain that feeling back
and I play the same topical house song that was playing
the night we met
but it’s not the same
and neither are we
but I still like driving at the same speed,
a different city
because I like to be reminded of you.