My mom has Sirius radio in her car. On the way there we heard this song.
On the way back, we heard this song.
Thank God it wasn’t the Ella Fitzgerald version, because that probably would’ve broken me.
My mom suggested we drive around my old campus on the way back, so we did. I haven’t been there in two years. There are so many new buildings. The duplex I lived in junior year has been torn down. When we took the new road behind campus, I was very aware that I was yards, not miles, seconds, not minutes, from your house.
We stopped at the new Subway by campus so I could relieve my bladder before making the remainder of the drive. It was deserted but the women’s restroom was locked, so I went into the men’s (it was a one-person kind of thing). I thought about what I would do if I opened the door and found you waiting on the restroom, but of course I didn’t have to find out.
My mom wanted to stop at the liquor store by the Dollar General on the way out of town because for some reason she was thinking it might be cheap. But I told her on state line I was pretty sure it’d be more expensive, and when she pulled up and saw its tiny size decided not to. I know the odds of seeing you there were greater than the odds of seeing you at Subway, so I was equal parts relieved and disappointed.
The mind-boggling thought of accidentally bumping into you nearly drove me mad, which is what makes the proximity so terrible. But I don’t have to tell you that.