Summer Air

It’s Thursday night and I’m driving around aimlessly. The hot summer air is still and sticky, but the early morning breeze is cool and it blows the hair from off my shoulders. I throw the car into park and grab a cigarette from my bag. I light it and the still air fills with smoke as I slowly exhale. The thoughts in my head shift directly to you, but I will try and distract myself for yet another moment by turning up the volume and taking another drag of my cigarette. I tap my hand on the steering wheel and hum along to Blake’s got a new face. It’s dark and I focus on the amber of my cigarette. I take another drag and watch the amber crawl up toward the filter. I kick my purple-strapped sandal off my right foot and lift my knee up around the steering wheel, resting my foot on the seat. I take one last drag of my cigarette and toss it out the open window. I watch as it hits the dewy grass and the amber fades slowly. It’s late. I brush the fallen ash from my cigarette off my summer dress. I picked it out the other day. It was black, simple, but I knew you would love it. I sigh and my eyes wander over to the time displayed on the dash. 3:12. A thought runs through my mind. If someone had told me I would be sitting here at 3:12 on this very evening, I would’ve thought them to be crazy. I should be anywhere but here. I reach inside my bag for my lip-gloss. As I lacquer the strawberry gloss across my lips, I think of you kissing me, then pulling away smiling, as you wipe the gloss from your own lips. This image fades quickly, as I toss the gloss back into my bag resting on the passenger seat. I gather my hair in my hands and run my fingers through it, combing out the knots from the wind. I think of you running your hands down the side of my face and kissing my forehead. I remove my foot off the seat and put my sandal back on my foot. I turn the keys in the ignition and the engine runs quietly. I let the car idle. My eyes shift back to the clock. 3:16. I guess time decided to move painfully slow. You are another year older. I shift the car from park into drive and ease the car back onto the road. I gaze out into the darkness and I see it again…just a few short hours ago. I was tiptoeing toward your lit window as I had so cleverly planned to surprise you. But instead I was the one surprised. Confronted with an image I never expected to see and more then likely will never forget. You and her, in your room, together. I feel many things, but for now, just anger. I get up to speed and reach back into my bag. I reach for the volume dial and turn up oxford comma so loud, making it impossible to hear all the other thoughts going through my head. The breeze is blowing through my hair as I sit back and light up another cigarette. You always hated when I smoked. I’ll probably drive all night and smoke this entire pack. Happy Birthday to you babe.