Eyes on the Road, Hands Up on the Wheel

"Yeah, we're goin' to the Roadhouse, gonna have a real, good time.." 

The other night I was driving home and started speeding. I started speeding, turned up the music, and pressed my foot to the pedal even harder. I took a sharp turn onto Granite, a windy, narrow, hilly street that weaves through the suburban back roads of my hometown.

But god, do I know that street like the back of my hand. It’s one of two roads I can choose from to access my neighborhood of 23 years.

With the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter” blaring through the speakers, I gripped the steering wheel tight with one hand, slid the moon roof back, rolled the windows down, and inhaled the crisp fall air. And I swear I was one with that road.

I felt every turn, every curve, every smooth inch of it… it felt like euphoria. I wondered, is there any better feeling than this? This control… this power… this reckless rush. I wasn’t worrying about what I might encounter next as I illegally sped. I guess my blinded intuition told me I could handle whatever it may be.

The counterargument? Well, what comes to every young adults mind when you utter the phrase “the best feeling in the world?”

To me, it’s freedom—and this freedom is unparalleled to anything I’ve ever felt in a relationship (which you’re likely thinking, along with s-e-x, is the best feeling).

Truthfully, I’m not sure why I am completely engulfed and unprecedentedly invigorated by the former.

Maybe I was brainwashed at a young age, riding passenger as my dad glided us around in his Porsche 911. He eventually got so many tickets in that polished-red devil that he had to go back to driving school, marking an abrupt and tragic end to that love story. Shortly thereafter, my mother wrenched it out of his hands and replaced it with a larger-than-life SUV. We digress.

To me there is something about a car that bears a very similar resemblance to a significant other, relationship-wise. Except I believe that the car/driving experience (which we will refer to below to as C) will provide far more pleasure and long-term satisfaction than a significant other (S) ever stands to.

Ergo: The argument.

Similarities

You’re emotionally attached to both of them. They give you a sense of possessive security. They require a certain amount of care and nurture to successfully function. You are invested in them, you spend lots of time together, and you pour money into them. You can attempt to fix them or change them (well, on the surface, at least). They are, first and foremost, YOURS.

Differences

C does not talk back and does not change the radio on you. In fact, C enables an intimate listening experience. C also enjoys sports radio!! If C happens to have Bose speakers, this is all the better.

C hangs out in your garage in its free time. You will never have to worry about C being lured out in the middle of the night to some other, more opulent driveway. When you require its company, C will be right where you left it, conveniently awaiting your key to turn its anxious ignition.  

At its core value, C gets you from point A to point B. C fosters productivity. Juxtaposed to S, who, at the bane of its existence, keeps you from point A to point B. S can be a time-consuming nuisance. The prying never ends: Where are you going? WHO are you going with? When will you be home? WHY? …Can I come? BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. When I encounter C, he asks no questions. I just get in, and we drive. And we drive FAST.

Finally, at the end of your relationship with both C and S, it is nonetheless difficult to say goodbye. Memories will inevitably remain, and many a good time and adventure will have been had. But whatever the circumstances surrounding your relationships’ ultimate demise may be, it will always be easier to move on from C.

You have no fear of this hunk of junk ever re-entering your life, and you simply let go. Because truthfully, when it comes to attachment, the tighter you squeeze, the less you have.

It's not that I'm afraid of being in a relationship. It’s simply that the mere idea of one completely and utterly bores me. 

The road, in all of its unpredictable glory, keeps me on the edge of my seat, transfixed by a nervous anticipation to see what lies ahead. 

And I guess that’s just the way I like it.