first date, last date

You took me on a date, driving, weaving in and out of the rush hour traffic. We had forgotten the time; though listening to music while we tried to decide where to go made it bareable.
I was enjoying the ride too much to really notice anyway. It'd been awhile that I was able to talk music, and you'd written a fucking script about mixtapes, instantly making you The Man of My Dreams.

You played me the song you were obsessed with, blasting "a sky for shoeing horses under." I took it as a good indicator that you were passionate about music; had songs to be lost in, covered and washed away in.

But at ice cream, I realized that mutual love in music does not make a relationship. All those things you said about not talking to your family, and numerous references and poorly veiled anger towards your ex couldn't be washed away by even the greatest of songs.

But damn, that was a perfect moment for a second, listening to your song as loud as possible, the blur of passing cars, feeling that anything was possible.