Young Writers Society

I’ve decided that I’m obsessed with using my high beams. Maybe because I’m a child of light (ya right) or that humans in general are vision dominant creatures. Imagine driving with only your sense of smell as your guide. Can blind people drive? Honest to goodness, I applaud the individual who could do so successfully. I never trust my feelings, you know the unpredictable tactile ones? Could you picture someone driving solely on instinct alone? You make a left simply because you can FEEL the curb. Or you stop because the sound of the engine ahead of you makes it so obvious that that’s the time to stop. Many would figure I’m delirious and probably work for auto insurance with the dramatic increase of vehicle accidents that would occur but wouldn’t it be safer to rely on three senses (taste doesn’t count) instead of just one? I dunno.

High beams are extra security I guess. It’s all about trust. I vividly remember those primitive sixth grade “trust” exercises that encourage children to trust each other. I hardly trust myself. Why the hell would I allow some snot-nosed punk catch me and break my fall? People trusting other people. It’ll never work. People throw trust around like a ball. Security is also something I don’t hand out to ‘Trick-or Treaters’ but gladly hoard it for myself every chance I get. I like safety and certainty. Who wants to fly out of control?

I could never understand birds. Ok they fly, it’s beautiful blah-diddy blah but they are just in the air with nothing concrete to hold on to. No five year old sneakers with bubblegum on the bottom to keep them down, no trusty gravity to haul your ass to the Earth. Just freedom to fly. It scares me.

So as I approach my ex’s place, I turned on the high beams. Maybe I felt stronger driving down the dirt road blaring my lights into the windows of the unsuspecting neighbours as I pull up into the dark driveway. Or maybe I just want to be seen, I want the spotlight, just once, since our relationship was all about him. Whatever the case, I felt it was necessary to use them. I eyed the highway just 20 km from his place. I could make a break for it. But I drove forward, I have my high beams to protect me.

A reel of time kept playing as I parked and put on the emergency brake. The Sushi Restaurant (it was actually called that) was filled with so many contrasting smells that you could feel them fighting for first place into your nose. I was totally caught off guard. I don’t think it’s just high beams, its all lights. The lanterns were fantastic and like a highly amused four-year old, it kept my attention while Camron talked. Reds, yellows and oranges glowed brightly, very bright so I didn’t clue in until he said “It’s over”. Lemme rephrase that. Clue in is the wrong word. I feel out of my seat and landed on my face. The lights went out.

So this was the point of no return. It was a nice solid door. A freshly painted forest green door. It was a nice door to come home to. One I could have gone home to. The bellowing sound of laughter tempted me to reconsider this adventure but the door was the point of no return.

He was wearing snake-skinned pants. Why was he wearing snake-skinned pants? If I were his girlfriend he wouldn’t be wearing…but I’m not anymore. He seemed shocked to see me. The high beams had no effect on what ever activity (I was praying that it wasn’t THAT activity) he was involved in. I looked pathetic holding a box of his stuff. A calendar, a shoe horn and two t-shirts was hardly worth the ride. A sad excuse to see him again.

His eyes were empty, I was a distraction. He was clearly preoccupied with something or someone else. Silently we exchanged things and he closed the door in my face. When I got home I pulled up and left the high beams on. Back against the garage door, I sat on the pavement and got lost in the light. It was the only light in my life now. Yes, I am obsessed with using my high beams.