driving west on a cold morning

Hi. This is Jill. I'm not here right now but feel free to leave me a message. Bye!

Hey there. You may not remember me; my name is Julian and we knew each other in college.
I was driving other day and had the most vivid memory. You were in this memory so I looked you up and called you. I guess that's... pretty obvious.
We had dinner one night... I rolled out some pasta on that big pasta board you laughed at. Moet and Chandon White Star and all that. You wanted to drive back home (70 miles?) with your best friend that night but I asked you to stay. I could tell you really didn't want to stay but wanted you to much to refuse your... uhhh... what's the word? Half-earnest? Un-earnest agreement to stay with me. I wanted you so much. Too much, I guess.
At any rate, you stayed with me and had the courtesy to pretend you enjoyed our sweating and straining... [quiet sigh]
I slept soundly, waking up occasionally to stare at you and wonder, marvel. Christ, you're lovely when you sleep.
You made me set the alarm clock for 5am so I could take you back home. Registration for the next semester, I guess.

I got up the next morning and made coffee. You didn't want to shower with me so you went first and I scrambled some eggs or something silly like that. You came out of the shower wrapped in one of the... pathetic garage sale towels we had in that old house. A little grouchy, too, but somehow that made you more... I dunno.
[pause]
The old truck started in the cold dew. I don't know why it wasn't frozen to the grass...
You dressed while the truck warmed in the dark of the driveway. I felt a little nervous. I wanted to be with you while you were finding your clothes but you had already gotten a little schizy about the shower thing.
So-o-o-o... we left. We talked for a while but you were yawning real bad.
O.K., this is what's important, this is what I'm really remembering. While I drove in the early morning, cold as hell outside, you slept lying down across the seat of that old truck. Your hair was still slightly damp when you put your head in my lap. The truck was warm so you weren't too chilly.
This part is permanent, indelible [laughter] like one of those laundry pens. I drove forever, heading west on that cold morning with you resting on me like that. You were so incredible, so fragile like that. You were asleep and trusting while I drove and it seemed like everything was right and good. I remember thinking that this was unlikely-perfect, that no one could expect something like this to happen to them.
When I wasn't shifting I rested my right hand on your hip. You were warm and godlike and I was glad to be alive, to be driving, to have you sleeping there.
You probably don't remember this at all, you probably just remember being tired and having a bit of a hangover. But I carry that, I carry you around with me. I don't think about it all that often but when I do it's very clear and it seems like it's a parable or something. Like there's a lesson in it for me or for everyone. I just thought I'd call and let you know.
Bye-bye.