Stop talking. Seriously –just shut up. Get your ass in your car. Come get me. Now. And as soon as I climb into the passenger seat, rev the damn engine, and let’s get the hell out of here. I don’t care where we’re headed or when we’ll be back. I’m not looking at the time – I don’t give a shit what time it is, what day and in what year. It’s all irrelevant.
I don’t even care where we go. I don’t care if we drive around town in circles until the gas tank is empty or if we head off onto the intersection, hit the high-way, and pass the borders. We can go wherever you want, and if you get tired we can stop for a while. I don’t care where the hell we are as long as we’re together.
Our time together never seems like it’s been enough. I don’t care if the sun is going to come up soon. I don’t care if I can barely keep my eyes open. I don’t care if I’m working –or even if you are– in the morning.
Just keep going, your eyes on the road, your hand on my leg and let me stare at you. Let me admire the way you seem completely at ease and the way your hands touch the steering wheel. Let me listen to the way your voice travels through the tight space to my ears. Keep driving and wherever it takes us tonight; just don’t take me home yet.
It doesn’t matter if we’ve spent minutes together, days, weeks or even years. There are so many things to talk about, so many things to see and a million things to do. And it seems that we don’t know each other enough, that we’ve seen nothing together and that the things we’ve done are just a drop in the ocean. It feels like, after each layer gets pulled back and away there is always a better, more interesting, more beautiful layer underneath just waiting to be explored.
Tonight I don’t want to go home. And if there was a way I could stop time, then tonight I would. Because when the night is over you’ll drive me back, leave me off at my front door and that will be it. And tonight that just won’t do. That won’t be enough.
Let me get enough of you.
If not tonight, then when?
No, I’m not in a hurry. No, I’m not impatient. It has nothing to do with emotions. How I feel about you, if anything and what it is, doesn’t matter tonight. All that matters is that I am comfortable, at peace, like I can finally let out the breath I’ve been holding for God knows what reason. I need to breathe. I want some more time with you. I don’t want you to take me home yet.
It’s not a fear of being alone. It’s not that going home is something I dread. It’s not a need to be with you all the time. I am not clingy and we both have our own lives outside this space the two of us seem to fill so completely. I don’t need your presence to fill the gaps in my day nor does my whole life revolve around you all day and everyday. It does when we are together, though.
Just don’t take me home yet. Forget about dropping me off when you reach the corner you are supposed to drop me off at. Don’t stop. Don’t hesitate. Take that turn and just keep driving. Speed up; I was never afraid of speed. And I trust you.
The tightness in my chest when I see that you’re slowing down, that we’re reaching our destination, that my home is merely minutes away, is like none other. I have so enjoyed your company, the time we spent together, that I do not want it end just yet. I will hesitate to open that door because then I would have to get out and that would mean that the night is over. And I don’t want it to be over.
Just don’t take me home yet.
I haven’t had enough of you tonight.