Is this Love?

I am never one to pass on the chance to spend time alone with her, so of course I offered to drive her home. It's only a few minutes from my place, not quite far enough to be out of the way. At the show we talked, laughed, mingled. Our night of interconnected joy could easily be mistaken for intimacy. It was loud, our ears rang after only a moment. Despite the unrelenting atmosphere, we still managed to find a way to communicate with each other.

The outside air is crisp with a slight fall breeze. She holds her jacket tight as we briskly walk towards the shelter of my car. We fall heavily into the vehicle exhausted from the energy expensed on playing out our respective roles. I turn the radio up to compliment the silence dancing between us.

I put my arm around the back of her seat and turn my head as I reverse the car. My eyes skip across her face, blinded by the poetry of her beauty. She seems unphased by the intrusion of my sight. I pull out onto the main road, not a single car clogs the way. The streetlights glimmer in my mirrors, but I cannot break my gaze from the street before me.

I tap my fingers along to the beat of the song playing. It’s only been a few minutes, but I can already feel my heart becoming consumed with anxiety. We are alone, a man and his dream. One wrong word and we descend into a nightmare. I shuffle my hands on the wheel and lean on the armrest, a couple inches closer to her. I peak over under the shower of red light. Her thumbs roll over each other. They are not twitching nervously, more like running restlessly.

Every mile we drive closer to the end of our journey, yet it seems she has already gone home. Say something, I should just say something. The bouncing tunes of Bob Marley capture the mood of our ride.

“Is this love? Is this love? Is this love? Is this love I’m feeling?” I sing along in my head. I would sing aloud, but my mouth is too dry for such a thing now. The words haunt my thoughts. I glance over to her once more, to see if they resonated with her as much as with me. Her head is resting in her hand, fixated on the passing buildings and lights outside her window. A sigh forces its way out as I look back to the road. We are pulling onto her street.

Naturally, I drive slower as we approach her house. It takes whatever resolve I can find not to stop short and speak what is choking my heart. We eventually roll to a halt outside of her home. Her parents are gone tonight, her sister is at work. I wonder if she will feel as alone in there as she did in my car. She opens the door and steps out with her bag in hand.

I can’t hide the disappointment on my face as I watch the night finally end. She stole my glances, captured my intentions, executed my hopes, and left little behind to hold. She spared no time gathering her things to exit the car. The door closes and she disappears into the dark house. The deafening silence lingers around me, swallowing the breath from my lungs. I’m not sure if she said goodnight or not, my mind was too focused on preparing for the next time she would ask for a ride home.