When I finally look at the clock, I notice it's been seven hours since I ran out on Emily and my feelings. As I look out in front of me, the gray asphalt blurring with yellow and white lines, I make the decision to keep going. I don't want to be the one to ruin her.

 

No matter how far I drive, I come to the same conclusion over and over again. I must have given Emily some sign of my feelings for her. It was never my intention. I'm a stock boy at a grocery store. She needs someone to take care of her...buy her all the things she's never had. She doesn't need an orphaned schmuck with less money than common sense.

 

Usually, forty-eight hours doesn't seem like a whole lot. However, it's the longest I've been away from Emily in the time I've known her. It's hard for me to believe I've only known her such a short time because she's my whole life. How can your whole life be consumed by one person you haven't known your entire life?

 

Since I don't know the answer to that, I keep driving.

 

It's Friday the 13th. I hadn't actually realized it until I stopped for gas, and the lady in front of me was writing a check. She asked what the date was. The attendant answered her in a gleeful, yet macabre tone. Can one celebrate Friday the 13th? If today is the thirteenth though, that means I've been sleeping in my car for six days.

 

Six days without her beautiful eyes.

 

Six days without hearing the slight lilt in her voice.

 

Six days since she told me she loved me, and I left her - like a thief in the night. Six days of thinking about kissing, touching and holding Emily. It's the only thing I've thought about.

 

Suddenly, it hits me: I know exactly what the raccoon from yesterday felt like as the wheels of the truck ahead of me rolled over him crushing him from the outside in.