Insanity

The tears came. They came with a vigilance that tore my heart out. They blurred my vision until the road was no longer visible. I pulled over and let the sobs wash over my body. They were for me, my mom, Tom, the homeless guy, and they were for Demetri. They were for hope and hopelessness.


When I was done, I restarted my car and drove at a slightly less reckless pace, not thinking, and feeling a million times better. I took the next exit and stopped a gas station. While I was filling up, I caught a glance at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was messy and limp, so I attempted to make it better by putting it up, however this only drew attention to the dark circles under my lifeless eyes.


“Hopeless,” I muttered aloud. I leaned against the car door and closed my eyes. It was almost silent, but I felt utterly alone. I didn’t want to think about Demetri, revealing his ignorant snobbery. I didn’t want to think about Tom and his love for my mom whose serene silence would never break. I didn’t want to think about how much I still wanted Demetri. It all scared me.


“Are you okay?” my head jolted up in fright at the sudden noise.


“I suppose,” I said with a hysteric bitter laugh that was more like a sob. I brushed away a couple tears that had the nerve to fall.


The guy had pulled up to the pump next to mine. He wasn’t much older than me, 18 maybe. I had never seen him before. His tan skin blended in with his sandy brown hair and brown eyes; that plus his faded blue jeans, white t-shirt, southern drawl and dusty red truck made him the catalogue boy of a small, southern town.


My pump clicked. I went inside to get my change and buy a diet coke. The cashier eyed me wearily. I seemed to be having that affect on a lot of people. When I got back to my car, the guy was still there.


“You from around here?” he asked.


“Not really,” I answered, getting in. I was suddenly aware that I didn’t exactly know where ‘around here’ was.


“Hold on a sec, you’re just going to leave?” he asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.


“Looks like it,” I sighed, closing the door. As I was pulling out f the station, I noticed a piece of paper on the dashboard:


Looks like you need a friend. Meet me at the beach at six if you want to talk.


There wasn’t a signature, but I knew it must have been the boy with the truck. It didn’t creep me out surprisingly, and I wanted to meet him so bad. To relieve everything to a stranger would be heaven. I glanced at the clock. It was 5:45. I didn’t even know where the beach was, but I knew it was this or go home, and I was not going home.


I drove for 10 more minutes and a sign for the next exit came up, (something) beach. I took it and drove to the beach.


I couldn’t believe what I was doing. It was stupid, an exact incident that your parents and teachers warn you about when they give you the “Don’t talk to strangers” speech. There was no plausible explanation for why I was meeting this guy. A brief thought crossed my mind. I was going insane. Yep, that was it. It explained everything.