Dear Jennal, I bet you would have never imagined. In fact I doubt the thought even graced your egotistical mind. For whom plans an act of manslaughter, not to be confused with well designed premeditated murder, not you my dear Jennal. Yet as I sit here thinking aloud, the leathery steering wheel grasped in my fingers, I can’t help but wonder if you planned my demise.
Dear Jennal, do you remember the day we met? The sky was blue and the roses in the park a cherry red. I sat sulking about a wooden bench as you twirled your hair around your fingers. I watched you from the corner of my eye oh so carefully. Some way however you caught me making my short unsystematic glances. My dear Jennal you always were quite brave so looking back now it comes as no surprise to me that you came to me to comment on the weather (whether weather was the real reason I’ll never know).
Dear Jennal, do you remember those happy days. The ones where the sun was shining and your smile made me blush. In the beginning we said we were just friends. Then we slowly graduated to the benefitted type. I realized that the taste of your lips was sweeter than the candy you kept in your purse. I fell in love, deep and hard. Did you ever feel the same? Somehow, I think that even if you did your pride would keep you from admitting it. Still you agreed to a relationship and decided on the term “going steady” at least while I was around.
Dear Jennal, those were different times. As for now the rain is falling, and I’m hydroplaning on the road. I have a destination in mind, but if I can’t keep in control I doubt I will get there. I just keep screaming why and losing myself in flashbacks. Get in control you fool, remember to breath! I tell myself.
The thought of how you used me and wasted my time is enough to make me physically ill. Here we are now my mid-road destination I can see it in the distance. It reminds me of the perfect ending, an ending by the ocean. Should I say our ending, I brought you to the ocean cliffs in a desperate attempt to keep you as mine. I begged for clemency, but you’re your words were as unmerciful as the crashing Atlantic waves: I’m having an affair and I don’t love you anymore.
So here I am, dear Jennal, racing toward those Atlantic waves and tall rocky drop-offs that lead to the ocean. Sorrow driven, and yes I blame you. That day in the park did you tell the sunflowers that you would make me crazy and joke about my death? Perhaps the world will never know.
Dear Jennal, my speed is hitting eighty no, ninety! Here is my turn. I missed it, just like I planned. As the car soars off the cliff I finally know what it is like to fly outside of your arms, out from under the illusion I was the only one. Into the ocean, the perfect end, and yes I blame you my dear Jennal.
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