I wanted to go to the Kirkland Waterfront tonight. By myself. I wanted to sit on the edge of the dock, stare longingly across the water, and listen to it lap quietly.
Instead, after situating myself in the driver’s seat, I dropped my forehead against the steering wheel and studied the motionless needle in the spedometer. The needle was below the “0” and at that moment, I wanted nothing. I wanted everything and nothing–both at the same time. I wanted to cry, but decided not to. I wanted to scream, but chose to sigh. I stared after the cars that were familiar to me as they each passed through the stop signs with ease, and almost, with pleasure. They seemed to laugh mockingly at me as they each turned their corners.
“Waahaahaahahaha!!! Carly! You and your pathetic transportation device are going no where! Hahahahaha!…” their voices gradually trailed off into the distance of my imagination.
I thought to myself, Cars don’t talk, Carly, let alone laugh… What’s wrong with you?
I turned the key to my ignition. The car awoke from its nap and waited nervously for me to drop it into “D”. I glanced at the passenger seat where I had tossed my cell phone.
Maybe someone will call… I wish someone would call…
I only wish I knew some things. I’m confused. I’m frustrated. Mostly, I’m scared.
Why do I allow people to take hold of my feelings like this? I’m only going to end up hurting someone.