Blasting is almost an adequate word to describe the decimal level at which I keep the radio in my car. I’m currently favoring alternative rock, which makes it seem all the louder. The songs are intelligent, disturbed, and unapologetic. They are distrustful, mocking and angry. They speak to me. I turn the volume up until the music resounds throughout my entire being. You can feel the vibrations blocks away.
It is an escape. So I literally can’t hear myself think.
Sometimes during the almost hour I have between work and picking up children, I drove to the lake, (sound high) and parked overlooking the water. I opened the window just enough to feel the wind. And then I shut the music off.
It is strange how loud the silence is when you aren’t used to it.
I took deep breaths. I watched the seagulls erratic flights over the parking lot. Told myself that I wasn’t leaving until school was letting out. Brief moments of sunshine warmed the car. The hundred things I worry about and should have been handling popped in my head. More breathing. The air outside was finally warm enough to smell like spring. And then, sooner than I realized, it was time to go.