Night of the Owl

I recall that drive home. I was a passenger after several months; it had been months since I watched someone else drive me to my city. This was different though. I was only going to Surrey, once again, and yet it felt like I was having the most peaceful escape in my mind. My driver did not know how to drive- my driver was simply practicing with my car. But my gut told me, he knew everything.
 
“Preet, you are crazy. That is stupid. Anything could have happened, you could’ve had an accident.”

But I did not care. Like a five year old, I wanted to play “race” tonight, even at a speed of 50 km/hr, all the way home. Like an old lady, I thought of death, which was to come upon me anyway. Nothing mattered then, other than this feeling. A now or never feeling.

Seriously, it felt as though everything was going to be okay. Someone else had taken my life over and was controlling it, but not harming me. It felt so good, would I have stopped them even IF they were harming me? The sealed windows of my mind I swore I’d never open were automatically turning locks- I couldn’t even stop this. I had given my remote away to the driver, and with the car he could drive my mind anywhere.

There was an intoxication in his eyes. A sparkle so sweet, communicating language words could never release. They would focus less on the road and slightly more on my comfort in the vehicle. Mutual warmth erased all thoughts of self-destruction. We did not want to commit harmful actions anymore- actions that would take us down different roads and poison our systems, never to meet again. All the traffic lights and streetlights were stars that night and we were driving to somewhere other than Surrey, BC.

There has been no other like you.
Stay well, my friend.