We drove and drove. The speed did somersaults through my system, leaving burning stinging little shocks of electricity all over my body. The street lights glared, sparking up the night sky, and lighting up our conversations. You chose a destination, but it sounded fictional. You were always taking us to some place to wait out the ends of the night, places to watch the sun come up, places to escape our lives to. I lost track of how many times we had done this kind of night. After awhile it all seemed like a continuous deja vu. Not that I minded, I would have lived within our own kind of Groundhog Day with you anytime.

But you would disappear for weeks on end. You would kiss me and say you would be right back, and then vanish for what felt like forever. And, I would wait, and wait, and wait for you. Sometimes driving aimlessly into the night, strung out on some flavor of vice, wishing I’d run into you along the way.

The Killing Moon :: Echo and the Bunnymen