Honeymoon Avenue

I looked in the rear view mirror and sighed. Stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic was definitely not how I planned to spend my evening. This was the last thing I needed.

Honestly though, sitting in my car waiting for the one in front me to move forward was better than being home right now. Listening to you whine and yell and complain about everything was, very quickly, growing old. Just thinking about the past few weeks’ screaming matches was giving me a headache.

I can’t remember when exactly things started going downhill. We used to be so in love, attached at the hip and looking at each other with stars in our eyes. And now, well, I don’t know. We just kind of yell at each other all the time now. When did we get like this? And where will we end up if we just keep moving forward?

Looking at the mess of cars ahead of me, I realized that we were heading down a dead end road. If we keep fighting over everything like this, we’re sure to crash and burn. Thinking in car metaphors is making this relationship a lot easier to sort out, I thought with a laugh.

I’ve brought all this up before, how we need to stop fighting and sort everything out; I know we need to turn off this street before we crash. But you always respond with “what are you talking about? We don’t have anything to sort out! If you’d just stop doing this or that or blah, blah, blah,” and then you just go off about whatever we’d been fighting about before. You just don’t want to change; you want to stay in the same lane until it ends. But, really, we’ve been driving the wrong way home for far too long already.

After sitting in traffic for what felt like forever, the cars started moving again and I was once again on my way back to our house. Turning left onto our street, I found it bittersweet. Living here with you had been so nice, but now I find myself dreading the drive home from work every day.

Pulling into the driveway, I think about how great I felt when we moved here. How I was so in love with you, how you always smiled at me and we’d fall asleep in each other’s arms every night. I sigh as I pull the keys out of the ignition. When did everything go wrong? When did we make that wrong turn?

Let's just go back, back, back.