falling in love on the freeway.

This is a story about cars. 2002 Subaru Foresters and 2004 Honda Accords and 2020 Kia Sportages and the one thing that they all have in common.

There’s something you have to understand. Our relationship started in the car.

Zach driving to Washington and back during the first few days of us "talking". Sitting in the car in the parking lot of Fat Cats, deep in thought about the first thing I was gonna say, as he popped up and proceeded to scare the shit out of me. I think it was "shithead". Making our way up State Street in my beat up Subie heading straight for the capitol building with a box of cookies and enough words between us to last a lifetime.

We even had our first kiss in the car.

The miles between us during years of long distance couldn't beat the miles and miles (and miles) we drove to get to each other. Him to me and then me to him.

I remember driving through Oregon to get to him in a literal blizzard in the Accord with no chains for my tires. As car after car pulled over next to the flashing signs telling us to "Suit up your tires or DIE!", I frantically called my mom to ask if I should turn around and try again another day. I honestly can't remember what her response was, but it definitely wasn't enough to make me turn back. The ten hours of terrified (and extremely slow) driving disappeared about ten seconds after seeing him.

And if that isn't the life-on-the-line kind of love people search for, I don't know what is.

It’s where I fell in love with country music. It’s where I fell in love with road trips to Ontario, Oregon. It’s where I fell in love with a boy with brown hair and hazel eyes.

Every time we get in the car together - buckled up and music blasting - it reminds me of the first time. It's like a live music concert (probably more chaotic and tone deaf). And the excitement of the music blasting through you at far too loud of a volume just doesn't ever seem to go away. Long hair, short hair, Honda Prius, Mustang Bullet. It doesn’t make a difference. Being in the car with Zach is home, whether we're headed to Winco or Washington.

We don’t have some epic love story, but we do have gas in the car. And that’s enough.