Going Nowhere They are driving to the center of nowhere in an old pick up truck that has seen better days and better times. She sits snuggled in her end of the seat, one hand playing with strands of her hair and watches him drive and talk. He talks up a storm as if trying to make up for lost time when they lived parallel lives in a place that was separated by time. His thoughts are as random as they are endearing. There is sweetness in his voice even if he is working at being all-man. Her lips curl upward slightly, creases appear at the corners of her eyes betraying the tenderness she feels as she listens to acts of bravery and bravado. He wants to impress her but without lying. He doesn’t know she is already impressed. She lets him talk because she loves the sound of his voice. She knows he is ever so slightly nervous by the way his fingers grip the wheel. His white knuckle tops give him away. She once told him about an experience she had had one night while driving in what felt like abject darkness. The only light on that dark country road came from full-bodied stars winking down at her. At once they dimmed then became brighter cajoling her to stretch out her hand and catch them. She had stopped her car, walked out and laughed a full throaty laugh as she reached up and pretended to grab the great unknown. He knew this story from a talk they had had and said that if they ever got to drive to the center of nowhere, he would pick the brightest, juiciest, sweetest, forever-lasting star for her to keep. The earnestness in his voice coupled with the giddiness of the moment made her say yes. Now here they were in an old beat up truck with blankets thrown in the back, a basket of food, albums of photographs from a past they wanted to share with each other, the radio playing softly and the night enveloping them with her promising arms. She looks over at him indulgently. All she wants to do is tell him to stop the truck because they already are where they need to be. She wants to tell him that the stars are in their eyes as they glance at each other every time the truck hits a bump in the road bringing her just that little bit closer to him and the anticipation of what lies ahead. Going Somewhere They lay on opposite ends of their bed. He is on his side facing the door. She lies on her right side with her back to the window. The sheets and duvet bunched up between them reminds her of guard rails on highways separating traffic going in different directions. She watches his shoulders move up and down with each breath. His snores are faint and steady. The tiny freckle on his nape plays hide and seek with her. Everything about him is so familiar. She cannot remember when it happened. It crept up on her. Was it because they didn't have children? Is this what happens when two people become so invested in each other? She thinks back at how she drifted away slowly from the shore like an untethered boat . She wants out. That much is clear. He still loves her. She knows that. She sighs slowly and tries to release the knot in her stomach with each exhale. There was a time when they would fall asleep holding hands. It was a nightly ritual. As soon as the lights were out, she would slip her hand in his and curl her fingers around his palm. Only after he was sure she was asleep would he remove his hand and move in closer. Sometimes they talked about their first meeting when he was so nervous taking her out in his beat up truck across snowy landscapes. He had no idea where he was going. She was there. He was hers. Nowhere held promise. She smiles in the dark as old memories flood her mind. She wants to move closer but she can't. It's too late. Inside, she has already said goodbye. It is a small whisper that fits in the pocket of her sweatpants but casts a big shadow on the walls. She knows he sees it. She knows he is waiting for her to say something. In the dark, he turns towards her. His straight, dark hair resting on his forehead, one hand on the pillow by his face. Just one time, she thinks to herself. Just one more time. She reaches out and curls her fingers around the palm of his hand. He presses down gently and moves in closer. Finally, she sleeps.
