I’m already gone.


Look here. It’s time to run away. If you want to come with me, you can.

No, not them. You.

There’s a beach calling our name. Or a mountain. Doesn’t matter. This place, it got tired. Wherever we’re going, we’re going right now, together, and we’re not looking back.

We’ll take turns driving. I’ll start, and you’ll oversee the radio. We’ll stop at the gas station and get snacks and bottled drinks with straws. We’ll forget to steal extra napkins, but regret it later when I spill mine on my lap. Typical.

It’s best that we go pretty fast at first. There’s a sense of urgency when it comes to crossing borders. We’ll drive out the disappointment. You and I, we’ll melt the highway beneath us.

We’ll probably roll the windows down, even though it’s a little too hot. You’ll sing all the words to our favorite songs (with 92% accuracy), and I’ll just listen, because I’m a little shy, even around myself.

We’ll need to take a break or two and pull over. Walk the road or hug the curb. At the rest stop, we’ll buy umbrellas or balloons — whichever’s necessary for the trip. Then we’ll swap places.

When I’m in the passenger seat, I won’t get bored at all. I’ll watch the colors of the landscape race each other until they’re diluted by the setting sun. I’ll point out funny landmarks. I’ll fall asleep with my sunglasses on.

At night, we’ll have the moon for dinner and save the leftover stars. Maybe we’ll stop, but it’s more likely we’ll keep going. We’ll brave the blind turns and count the mile markers. You will protect me; I’ll be your champion.

It’s almost summer, but it won’t be summer without you. You’ve got to go with me. We’ll hold hands across the center console and fall in dashboard love. So what if we’re running away, so long as we’re headed in the right direction.

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