I hardly remember a time when I've been in a car and not also been singing a song. Sometimes in the sunshine, a happy beach-lovers song, my hand dancing in the waves of out the window, warmth radiating off the whole world. Walking on sunshine. Not caring who hears or sees or laughs. At other times, the windows are sealed tight while my heart bursts open. A ballad. A love song for the lonely hearted. The pathetic fallacy of the rain outside keeping pace with my tears, with my loneliness. I try to remember - this song fills that space. This song eases that ache. I choke, spittle joins the tears. I pull over until the song is done.
I thought we were ending. I always think we're ending. And then this song came on. We were just turning right, heading home from a wet coastal weekend. And this song came on. His hand was on the gear shift, and I touched it tentatively. We warbled. We are not warblers, except when there are tears in our eyes and words choked back in our throats. We warbled. We harmonized. We were okay. The road has continued to twist and turn. We continue to be okay.