In the Passenger Seat

Loving someone is easy: It’s your car and all you have to do is start the engine, give it a little gas and point the machine wherever you want to go. But *being* loved is like going for a ride in someone else’s car. Even if you think they’ll be a good driver, you also have a lurking fear that they might end up doing something disastrous and in an instant you’ll both be flying through the windshield towards pain and later on, your heart billing you big time for this ride. Being loved can be the most frightening thing of all. Because real love in any form means goodbye to control; so what happens if halfway or three-quarters of the way through a trip with someone, you decide you want to go back or in a different direction, but you’re only the passenger?

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