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You witnessed her unraveling in the driver’s seat of her own car.
That little ‘08 Beetle was home for many of your best conversations,
But tonight it was seldom a home.
Rather, a sanctuary for honesty - a safe place to break down.
You still chuckle at the irony:
Breaking down behind the wheel of an automobile.
But there she was,
And nothing about this was funny…
Besides the pounding rain on the windows
Because what a better night to cry than while the sky is crying too?
Everything about this girl was a poem.
She was always looking for a metaphor in everything
And probably searched for the symbolism in you handing her a napkin instead of your shirt,
But you meant nothing by it other than to say,
“Here. Wipe the snot off your face.”
And maybe you should have said that.
It would have made her laugh,
But she wasn’t asking for laughter.
She was asking for you,
And you’ve never been good at fixing cars
Nor could you ever stop the rain.