It’s rare for me to be able to drive someplace without listening to music. No matter how short or long the drive it I typically have some playlist droning on in the background. Typically it’s so I can sing along at the top of my lungs (granted it’s just me in the car), but sometimes it feels forced. Maybe it’s to stop my thoughts from racing along with the cars on the freeway. Maybe it’s to stop the doubts and fears from creeping in. Maybe it’s the silence that bothers me or the reminder of being alone.
That changed when you got into my passenger seat on that warm May afternoon. I remember how the guitar strings of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon fell silent along with our voices. You turned off the radio, settled in your seat, and simply took in the sounds of life moving past us. There wasn’t a need to fill the silence. My mind didn’t have to race on. It was at ease with you listening as the tires turned against the road and the wind whipped by. Only with you.