I miss you so much. We had been through a lot together; those ten accidents, the three tickets, that one time we found out that having sex in your back seat was too uncomfortable. I have dreams about you. About smoking a bowl in you before class, caressing the sweet curves of your steering wheel. I can’t bring myself to love another. Unless of course it were a 69 Chevy Chevelle SS with a 454 plopped right on in that hood, but looks don’t matter to me. It’s the experiences we had together. I know you’re running red lights and pedestrians up in Rad Car Heaven right now.
I Miss You,
Me
