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The trees, endless pines, stretching back from the road are filled with darkness. Uncertainty. It had never bothered me before, usually I could just drive my car and the emptiness, the loneliness and the quiet wouldn't be a thing. It's deafening now, the lack of noise. I hasten to say even Rachel blathering on about some reality tv show would be better than this. Or Matty rambling on about his art or anything but Jay and Taylor and how they're currently on their honeymoon and I'm here driving my car at 4 am in the rain.
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I don't want to hurt you anymore, Ross. I hear Taylor's sweet voice in my ear. Her sobbing; tears that fall from her cheeks onto my neck. My hands even though they're gripping onto the wheel can feel her. Smell her perfume, yearn to kiss her and make everything okay.
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I glance briefly into the depths of the trees seeing dark reflections and shadows, a bright beaming headlight shoots past me on the opposite side of the highway. And I just miss the sun and the beaches of Australia, bookshops and nice food. And Taylor, let's not forget her. Whilst we were in Australia there was still so much possibility.
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The sky is only just beginning to brighten, the faintest of lights shining down onto the highway. The rain eases and I slow down heading for my next junction.
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I love you, I will always have these feelings, but I cannot be your wife. I sigh as her voice takes over my head once again. Piercing through that pain in my chest, opening it up again. The moment she said no. The moment she made it final. And worst still the moment she told him I do, it's burned into my brain.
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Her mum squeezing onto my hand, and all I could think was that should be me, I should be holding her. Not being consoled by her mother in the crowd. Taylors hair flowing down her back, which had gotten considerably lighter from the Australian heat. Her slender frame in white silk and her bare back with his hands cradling her. Her mum sobbing, happy tears and Rachel on my other side holding onto my forearm.
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I love you, I hear her say in my ear, and I almost close my eyes begging for it to be true.
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I love you and I wish it was enough. She tells me and I have to focus on this next junction. Getting in lane, checking my mirrors. No other cars drive at this time I tell myself.
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I hear Taylor over and over again telling me that she loves me but somehow it still doesn't change a thing. She is still over the other side of the world and I am still in my car here.
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I pull into the junction which will lead me back home, estimated arrival 45 minutes from now and I consider whether the next service station is serving food. I can't even remember the last time I ate, I must have had dinner, I'm losing track of time again.
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I switch on the radio and Chris Isaak mellows out the ride with dulcet tones. What a wicked thing to do I hear Chris sing and I couldn't agree more. Making me dream of her and imagine her in every situation I find myself in. I wish I could just disengage from her and her life, just make her a stranger. Yet every waking moment is a chance to convince her of what I know to be true; we are supposed to be. Matty has advised that he will be around when she does arrive back, because somehow Matty has now become their number one best mate. He'll probably be feeding and burping their baby.
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Services ahead a sign reads and I decide a quick stop will only add half an hour to my journey. I should eat, and suddenly just from glancing at the images of the burgers and soda on the sign I'm ravenous.
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We are supposed to be I told her. Her red dress, her skin aflame under my touch. Taylor Elena Peterson I told her trying out my surname with hers. How things could have been different. We could be on this highway, together driving to wherever it is we would live together. I'd be holding onto her thigh, she would glance up at me smiling. There would be no backseat passengers to disturb all of our moments.
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I would kiss her, hold her, keep her like only I know that I can. I told her that I would never ever love another, before I got down onto my knees. The thought of falling for another woman is just bizarre to me. When I can only think about her, when time is lost merely in my preoccupation of thinking of her.
I glance up at the signs, and i've missed the lane for the services. My phone goes off and I glance at it, Matty. I ignore the call planning on calling him back when I've pulled up. He's rung me a record of 6 times in the last hour. It's my fault I didn't come home. I imagine him at my place and feel bad, he will be worried about me.
It's just that being around him reminds me that she isn't there, everything goes back to her.
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The rain picks up again; and frustrated I decide to switch lanes. I need to eat, and stop thinking about Taylor. That's what people do, when they're not wanted they get on with their sorry lives. They don't go out driving all night, thinking about what they could have.
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I indicate left but I don't check my mirrors, not even my internal one. It happens fast, all together like the time I fell off my motorbike in the snow. My car swerves and instead of gliding into the left lane, and carrying me on my way to my four am burger and soda, it crashes right into the barriers. The first thing I think is brake. Hit the brakes. But by the time I've registered that I should be stopping my car and minimising the damage, I hit the centre of the freeway instead. And the sound is loud. The jolt is even bigger. Throwing me directly forwards, my air bags blowing up just in time.
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It's okay I think to myself, I'm just upside down. At least I haven't hurtled through the windshield. I take note of the time, for some bizarre reason, like it's important. Four twenty am. Chris Isaak has stopped his tortured singing and it's wet. Water filtering through and onto me.
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That ring belongs on somebody, somebody beautiful and kind like you. I hear her say and I smile, it belongs on you Taylor, I say out loud. Seeing her clearly in front of me. Kind eyes smiling at me and lips that I long to kiss curved into a smile. The air is cool and it sends chills through me before my vision blacks out.
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