A love story

Tunnel vision

I admit that these are uncharted waters for me.

Three years into a relationship and we are still together. Admittedly, we are slowing down. If it wasn’t for tonight, I would have trouble remembering the last we had some excitement. I rarely push you into corners with reckless abandon. I rev you hard but I know you prefer it much harder. I don’t hear you squealing your tires in delight or sliding laterally in a stomach churning fashion.

This, I am sure is a function of time, as it is with every relationship. That is not to say I am trying to avoid our time together. You bring me immense comfort and contentment. I don’t mean to embarrass you but I don’t know what you think of my pecks on the center emblem on the steering wheel. Or the fact that I randomly tell you that I love you even after an average drive home from work. All I want is for you know that I am with you.

We haven’t done much past this year. No new states conquered. No new speed limits. No close shaves. Yet, not one bit of me is complaining. I am now familiar with your scratches and stone chips. I know now that you really prefer your transmission fluid to warm up before I enter 6th or reverse. And that under a lighted parking lot, in the darkness of the night, your shining blackness makes you stand out. Groceries in hand, I cannot take my eyes of you.

Where we go from here I don’t know. Today, I drove you wildly. Tomorrow, I will again settle in your seat and crank you over.

To begin my steady state drive to work, to start a new year, together.