Subaru

That stupid car of yours. Dirty, messy, and filled with remnants of every meal you've ever eaten outside of your house, I wouldn't realize how that vehicle would impact my life until after you were gone.

It was to that car we'd escape to when we didn't want the world to bother us. It may not have been much, but it gave us a chance to let the world melt away and time slow down to relaxed breaths and silent conversations; we had a chance to soak up the feelings we exchanged and every other part we would never learn to appreciate. It was in that car we promised forever.

It was in that car we'd make some not-so-smart decisions; we let the passion drive the moment instead of using our minds. At least we could back our actions with our hearts. Too bad we didn't realize just how much it would hurt us later; instead we were too busy synchronizing every breath we took.

It was in that car we spent our last day together, and when I asked you what was wrong you masked your face and put on a smile. Instead of telling me the truth, you faked every emotion. Our motions no longer coincided with each other, and our patterns were broken and I was choking on our once harmonic sensations.

I needed you so much, I needed you too much.

Before we had crossed paths, I never saw one single Subaru, but every time I drove around our small town after you left, that's all I ever saw. There was a time when my heart would skip a few beats every time I saw what I thought was your car. I hoped that maybe if you saw me you would change your mind; maybe, just maybe.