Rendezvous
14 January 06 : 06.13 AM
It says 2:46am on your watch, we drive places that I've been to with another but I like the familiarity. It's quiet and we aren't talking. Gasoline nights like this, of car air-conditioners we don't turn down, streetlamps illumination, cheesy love songs on the radio and winding up a narrow road to find ourselves a place to go, end with me having painful words I don't say.
"Sentimentality," I say but you can't make out what I say over the music, and you ask me to repeat what I just said, and I say nothing, and you ask again and I say, nothing, no I didn't say anything, I don't say anything while you're driving.