I saw you this morning.
You pulled up next to me in the rain waiting for the light at Route 70.
Ten lines of cars crossing eight lanes from Philadelphia to Atlantic City. So many people in a hurry to get to a place that doesn’t make them smile.
Who is this weirdo in the shiny purple car?
Arms waving, hands clapping, singing at the top of her lungs. Who does she think she is? This isn’t American Idol.
Ugh. I can hear the music.
No wonder. She has the sunroof open.
In the drizzle.
What a whackjob!
I hear you. Wanna sing with me? 🙂
I saw your black car with spoilers and tinted windows and all sorts of accoutrements.
Then a flash of how you spend your weekends.
I don’t know the words for all of it. I’ve only seen a few of The Fast and The Furious movies.
And then the reason for the tinted windows came and I understood the bravado.
It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to hold onto it.
Look at me – the girl (who most people would call a woman) acting like a fool because it feels good.
It’s okay to be seen. It’s okay to try. It’s okay to fail. It’s okay to rage and cry and make vows that you’ll change later.
I’m telling you it can be different.
I do this because I like it and it feels good. I make a mess of it and clean it up time after time.
It does get easier. You eventually get used to groundlessness.
But you have to reassemble yourself a couple million times first.
Would you like to fly?
We’d love to see you.
And I can feel what you have stirring inside. We need that. We need you.
I’m hoping you’ll think me inspirational instead of a fool one day but that decision is up to you.
When the sun is out, maybe you’ll roll your window down and wink.
Perhaps sing along even.
I hear springtime is coming.
*some details have been altered to protect the unnamed*
This was the song he pulled up to.