everyone i've ever loved went down in history
it's like when you are driving for no real reason other than to hear how that one song will sound against a rumbling engine; it's usually a little better than usual, and if there is snow on the ground, then you slip, and you don't care because you know you'll right yourself. if not now, then somewhere else down the road; the guardrails will be forgiving if you close your eyes. once i was with my mom in a car, and it was raining, and she told me God was crying, but she didn't even believe in God; she got bored in church even. anyway, God must have been so sad that day, because we started moving wrong, like His hand was just kind of picking us up and moving us side to side on this empty highway. and we were on a bridge and i thought the guardrails will be forgiving. and my mother was listening to george michael or something really out of place like that on her cassette player and the song was about sex and i was trying to pretend like i had been asleep so it wouldn't embarass me. but this woke me up, and i could see all of new bedford staring at this car, wondering if it would slide far enough to kill us, wondering if God could be so cruel as to just lose interest with his toy car and send it over the side of the bridge, with this poor woman and her kids inside, all dressed up and ready to see their family. and we stopped, and i wasn't sure if i was dead yet, all i knew is that she was crying, and she was screaming oGod oGod oGod letuslive. i'm on my way to see my mother and father and letuslive. and so now my mom is religious, and keeps these pendants in the car that she holds on to when it rains. well good for her, but all i have in my car is a silly cocktail umbrella and a sweatshirt string from too long ago, and now i listen to songs about sex all the time, and i don't even know a god, and i don't drive on highways. but the point is this. when you look through a windshield, you don't see things clearly; you can only see what is on the inside, sitting next to you, smiling and holding your hand. not God or the rain or guardrails or anything. the only thing that matters, and mattered, was the night in september when you stood on my feet and cried, and all that was left behind.