right turn

Uncried tears sting like acid dripping down the back of my skull into my esophagus. I swallow the lump in my throat and swerving the steering wheel, I turn the right blinker off, switching the left blinker on.

ke-tah, ke-tah, ke-tah.

The rhythmic clicking calms me down. I do not know where I am going, but it can't be home because you are there. It's not your fault, nor is it mine, but somehow everything feels wrong.

Last night you asked me, "Do you want this?" and I said, "I'm still here so of course, I do," as if my mere existence was proof enough for desire. But, we both know that isn't really an answer.

The truth is I don't know. I haven't been able to think clearly since before we started dating, my brain being smothered by a fog of unexplainable doubt. You understood this and felt the same as we ebbed and flowed during the long time we have been together, though it feels like a blink of the eye romanticizing retrospectively.

We've been putting up a balancing act of mortar construction on top of our heads while others watch in amazement as we seem to have a magnificent blueprint. And, we truly have built something beautiful that I'm proud of for myself and for the world to see. Lately, sometimes it just feels like bricks are falling and I don't know how to keep standing and building up what has fallen.

I'm now driving through the countryside with the only light in sight being my headlights. That song on the radio hums in the background saying things I realize I'm too scared to tell you. . . maybe we're meant to be, just not made to last.

But, if the former is true, I instinctively can't give it up: this is too important, you are too important. So instead, I go on a drive once in a while, swathed up in encompassing layers of darkness where I can cry and care too much about my feelings until I come to the realization once again that I care about you more.

I drive back slowly to the intersection where I was before and signal the right blinker. I come through the front door with a sheepish smile, and when I see your eyes, the anticipation of my homecoming, followed by concern as you read me, I know my truth is with you.

They say to find someone who can hold you with just their eyes, and that's what this moment feels like. I've made the right turn and I say to greet you, "I'm home."