By all means, take the front seat...

I don't know how to feel.

I can't be mad.

By all means, I have absolutely no reason to be mad.

It's not like they did this to hurt me.

They probably have no clue just how hard I'm taking this.

I can only sit here in shock.

The unthinkable has happened.

I thought things were going to turn out differently.

I thought I'd walk away with a smile.

Instead I sat there holding back the tears that were inevitable,

Laughing to cover the ones that escaped.

Here I sit.

In the backseat.

Don't worry, I've grown quite accustomed to all this space.

But when one calls shotgun and another jumps in,

especially when it's such a nice car,

one can only be a little deflated to sit alone in the back seat.

I know the seats well.

I've sat here before.

I know the motions to go through.

So why is it so hard this time?

Why was it suddenly next to impossible to breathe?

Why do I let this keep happening?

Why does it hurt so bad to think about?

Why can't I go through the motions this time?

I'm too scared to even glance at the seat now.

Why covet what I'll never have?

The best seat I'll get will be on a motorcycle.

No passenger.

The space will be suffocating.

Here I sit,

In the back seat,

Watching the passenger in shotgun have such a lovely time.

Deep breaths,

this could be a long ride.