Your seat had an imprint for me ... (Winter Pt. 4)

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I remember how much you hated riding passenger.
I do now too but not the same reasons as you.
I mistook your embarrassment for chivalry, or at least wanted to believe you were just too good to me.
It was like the seat had an imprint just for me.
Now I sit passenger to others, and remember why.
Clenching the door or the seat when you drove to recklessly.
"I'm immortal", but I was there too, "Don't you trust me?", I did but too much.
You'd get so upset, so I tried to stop.
I try to hold back flinches and fears from others when they drive.
Someone asked if I thought they'd make fun of me for being scared.
I said yes.
That was easier to say than your name, and the pain?
Or rage?
In your eyes when I'd hold tight and brace for the worst, begging you to be careful.
So sitting passenger isn't a thing I like to do, because I always think of you.

11/20/2020

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