Are We in the Woods Yet?

We were coming from a sunset that left our breaths chilly, but our souls were so warm. Taylor Swift cheerfully played in the radio, paving the roads ahead of us. Kamikaze ember colored leaves made their debut in the windshield as we drove back to where we were staying for the weekend. I watched the colors and lights illuminate my spirits and felt warmth throw a smile onto my face. The car rumbled into a parking lot and two best friends who sat in front me started belting out a Taylor Swift song, repeating her angst and frustration but their smiles to each other were reminiscent of four years of friendship. Their clashing tones filtered through Taylor’s voice seemed to pause time and for a couple seconds, I sat in silence and stillness, uncertain if I should exit the car or remain and witness this bondage of companionship. A nervous dialogue in my head pondered if I should be a secret keeper to this memory that’s slowly forming in front of me or if I should intrude it by the opening and closing of my door. The girl sitting to my left fidgeted and it was clear that she wasn’t as aware of their bond as I was, so I made sure I faded into the shadows, only allowing my presence be softly known in the loud drumming and bass with my synchronized swaying to the two best friends. They took no notice of my participation, my personal revelation and happiness, when they were immersed in this memory they created for each other with their love for Taylor Swift. The girl next to me anxiously wanted to get back to the festivities that were being prepared to us inside, but at this point, I felt a sense of belonging not with the two best friends, but with myself strangely enough. When the song finished off, the last chord ringing out throughout the car and city, the driver exclaimed, “And that’s what four years of friendship looks like!” I solidified the statement with my laughter; delighted I got to witness something so precious.