There's this moment. Always these moments. But there's this one. And it strikes me while I'm driving towards Clarksville on 32. While I'm driving to Roots Organic Market because She said She wanted to go.
Because we had nothing better to do, and the salty mood I relapsed into was making Her anxious.
So, Roots, She said. Yes, let's go.
So as I drive there. Thinking how depressed I am and how hopeless everything is and how dark and bleak and grim the future is and on and on and on, I stop.
Something stops me.
And it might be the cool evening summer breeze or the way the sunlight is making the clouds turn orange. It might be the hypnotic repetition of the white painted lines my car zips past.
But I stop. I stop and I turn to Her.
And the lighting is so mild but it still manages to radiate within Her hazel eyes. And the wind is whipping Her brown hair playfully about Her face. And Her skin looks so soft and She just looks at me with the most tranquil expression and I know I'm traveling sixty miles an hour on an open highway, but I can't look away. I can't look away.
I just can't.