Provided thoughtfully by author and psychic Leslie Schnur.
'She leaned against him, her shoulder against his arm. He turned to her, and he took her hand in his.
A few minutes later, he broke the silence.
"I haven't done this in a very long time." I can't tell her the truth, is what he was thinking.
"Me neither," she said. And I don't know if I can go through this again.
"I'm not sure I can." Besides, she thinks I'm someone I'm not.
"Me neither," she said again, wanting to smack herself. Though it was true.
"Maybe we should forget it." God, I want to kiss you, to...
"You're dropping me before we've even gotten started?" She made him laugh. Her stomach hurt. She pulled her hand from his.
"Somebody, in every new relationship, has to drive the train, to run the machine," he said. The last time, look what happened.
"Well, I don't drive. I'm a city girl," she said. Please don't do this.
He laughed. "Someone has to pursue the other. Or else you can't get to the next stop." Fight with me!
"Well, I'm not going to do it." Fuck him.
"Me neither." Screw you!
"So this will be the first love affair with no people," she said, looking down at her feet.
"A lot simpler than if it were populated." He turned to look at her. She's only here because thinks I'm someone else.
"It could last years." Kiss me, please.
"Or it'll go nowhere. It's not as if a new relationship can propel itself. It can simply putter out and stall on the side of the road," he said, now sounding anxious. "One could get hurt."
She challenged him. "Well, why aren't you brave? It's not important enough to you?" Fuck you!
"Me? Why not you? Who said that the man has to do it? What are you, a sexist pig?" Don't you see? I'm not who you really want.
"Yeah. SO I'd like to be pursued. So shoot me." Kiss me!
"I don't have to shoot you. Shoot yourself. I'm sick of having to be the one to drive the car! You know what it's like to drive the Expressway? Awful! That's what it's like. Trucks, old ladies with blue hair who can't see over the wheel, terrible drivers--"
"Drivers with a sense of entitlement . Feel they can cut you off, run you over simply because they're driving a Jag or a Hummer." she said.
"Hummers should be illegal. What, eight, nine miles to the gallon?"
"I totally agree!" She smiled. He's wonderful. She slipped her hand back into his.
"It's really a shame," to put it mildly, he said, squeezing her hand. "And all because we're wimps." And because you want me to be someone I'm not.
"Just fearful." Why is this so hard?
"I know." Show me it's me you really like and not a guy you're imagining.
"Well, this was fun." Yeah, right. She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms around her waist.
"I just need some time. I know that sounds...but can I call you?" When I get the balls?
"Why?" Oh God, yes.
"If I learn to drive?" To show you who I really am?
"God, yes. The minute one of us is willing or able to drive, we have to promise to call the other." I won't do it.
"I promise." And you'll be disappointed.
"Me, too." Please.
And they stood there for a few more minutes, in silence, leaning against each other, before heading back uptown.'
*sigh* Doesn't anyone wanna take the keys?