Greenwood, Mississippi

I don’t hand over the keys lightly. At first, after my accident, you couldn’t make me drive. I wouldn’t even sit in the driver’s seat and crank the car. I thought I would never drive again, and I didn’t care.

Years passed. I don’t know how many. I stopped counting. Five. Maybe six. And then one day I was driving again. Not very far, not very long, but driving.

I like to look like I have it all together. I like to look like I don’t need anyone or anything. And maybe I don’t. But sometimes, when I’m very, very tired, when the world is dragging me down, I long to be bundled up like a child and carried, head bumping against a strong shoulder, hand resting on my back and keeping me from falling.

I’m a hard-headed girl. Snarly with a stubborn streak a mile wide. But sometimes I get tired of being the tough girl. Sometimes I long to just place the keys in steadier hands, gratefully smile, and crawl into the passenger’s seat, knowing I can sleep all the way home.

Music: Put Your Lights On (lyrics)