The silent drives with music and wind in my ears remind me of all the places that I've been without you.
That time in the mountains of Idaho, walking hand in hand with a boy whose name escapes even my most concentrated memory.
He was too shy to make a move but when I said he could kiss me if he didn't try to **** me he was all too eager to roll around in the needles on the forest floor.
That green holiday filled with fools gold and cheap beer when I was bored and found myself on the side of that ****** house pushing her into the panels with my kiss, wrapping my hands around her waist, venturing beneath her shirt.
The hot Florida sun beating the white powder of my skin until it turned bronze, and when my neighbor eyed me suggestively I remember closing my eyes and thinking of him alone in my bed that night.
Home in the midnight hours, running across Broadway, doubling over with laughter as we found Chaos and entertained her until we made it home to sleep on the hardwood floor of my unfurnished apartment.
Sitting alone in the shade above the waterfall, surrounded by the trees dancing with one another to the beat of the trains loud roar. I wrote my first hatred of you there.
The first and only kiss with a stranger who stumbled into me that night at the bar while I was bent over in my red dress shooting pool.
The tiny sparkle in his silly blue eyes and grin of a child made me laugh, and we still imagine what would happen if we were ever in the same part of the country again.
But we're still on this silent drive surrounded by the Cascades and my hair is blowing in my face. I see a smile grace your lips and I wonder if it will be like this forever, or maybe I'll find myself untied again, holding freedom by the reigns.