Sitting by the window, staring blankly at the cars whizzing by, I can’t help but think of you. Cars are speeding, hurrying to or from their destinations, constantly going. Everyone is always going somewhere, but there’s really no place to go. I watch them, wondering about you. You, like the rest, are also entangled into this web of motion. I observe while the others simultaneously move through life. So many things happen at once, creating a blur of random thoughts and ideas. I am afraid, although I have no idea why.
Time speeds up, and I again cannot stop thinking about you, wanting you to care about me. You don’t, and I have accepted that with honor. But I still wonder, still wish, and still dream.
The muddy rainwater splashes out from behind the tires, over and over again, soaking the passersby. The sound of the rain is soothing, and at the same time creates a feeling of horrible nostalgia. I can almost feel the raindrops wetting my face as I think of you, only to realize that they are not raindrops, but tears. Those same cold, hard tears which I had sworn I’d never taste again. Why did this happen? It should never have…
The pulsations of the drops hitting the glass are enticing. I can’t stop thinking. Going, spinning in circles, we are always on the move. Always in a perpetual state of motion…Yet we go nowhere. We speed up, and yet we still do not reach the goal. Never reaching it, never even seeing it, for we cannot truly know what that goal is.
I stare at the cars, thinking of you…Where are you going? Are you also spinning in circles? I want to talk to you, to know about you, but you are not that simple. I’ve tried, and frankly, I don’t know how much more I can take. A mistake. A foolish mistake…that’s all it takes? I thought that it’d at least take a little more than just that, but it is up to you.
The rain speeds up. The cars continue speeding down the wet pavement. I pray silently that they are not going too fast.
The road entrances me, and I feel as though I cannot take my eyes off of it. Almost as if something is bound to happen there, right there. Hoping that my intuition is playing mind games, I stand up from my perch near the window. As I walk to the kitchen, my frail body swings around and leaps back as the squeal of tires skidding on the wet ground corresponds with a the sound of crushing metal. I am unaware of the time, the place; my only focus is on the mangled vehicles, motionless, like corpses on the wet ground.
I still think of you, as the rain beats upon the crash. They were going too fast…Life’s too short to fly through it. Going too fast, trying to get somewhere, although they had no place to go.
The world turns, as I watch the rain, thinking of you…