We drove all night down streets that didn’t have names; if they did nobody knew them. The air was crisp and the stars were bright. That old barn was a mystery, but the music was familiar. Nobody spoke. I was in the back seat. I was with my best friends, the ones who would never leave. I used to say that moment was so peaceful, but looking back I know it wasn’t. It was only nice to say that I did those things; everybody wants to say they had a night like that.
I never mentioned that with every turn we made down an unknown road made me feel as lost as I possibly could. I just never mentioned that I felt like I was suffocating even with the crisp air filtering through the windows. I never mentioned that the stars seemed like the only thing that was bright. I never mentioned that nobody was talking because we feared a single word could make the world crumble and fall. I just never mentioned that many of the songs felt like a punch in the stomach. I never mentioned that the barn only held feelings of the adventures we knew we would never have. I never mentioned that those friends no longer speak. I never mentioned how that night felt hopeless.
If you leave out the details, it was a beautiful drive.