Sunset Drive

Driving along Highway 1, the car moved steadily on the winding mountain road. Vancouver was long behind me, and the bustling city had been replaced by rugged hills and the crisp, cool mountain air. The setting sun cast a warm golden light through the trees, painting the road with a soft glow. My destination was Saskatchewan, but before that, I’d be passing Kamloops Lake, a place I had once imagined visiting with you many times.

The car cruised at a steady 60 miles per hour, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel as an old song played softly on the radio. The lyrics about love, which once felt so relatable, now only brought back memories. Through the window, I caught a glimpse of Kamloops Lake in the distance. The water shimmered with the fading light, reflecting the last glimmers of the day. The surface was calm, almost like a mirror, quietly observing my solitary journey.

I didn’t plan to stop, even though the scenery was captivating. I knew that even if I got out of the car, the person I had once imagined sharing this view with was no longer here. So, I kept driving, as if trying to escape the quiet ache that had settled in my chest.

The tires hugged the curves of the mountain road as the lake slowly disappeared from my rearview mirror. The sunlight softened, turning the sky into shades of pink and orange, much like the dreams we once shared—beautiful, but fleeting. We had planned road trips like this, imagining the day when we would pass by such sights together. Now, it was just me, alone on a road that stretched toward a future you would never be part of.

The car’s interior felt unusually quiet, aside from the low hum of the engine and the soft music from the radio. The road continued ahead, stretching endlessly into the distance. Suddenly, I realized that every twist and turn on this highway reminded me of our time together—sometimes smooth, sometimes rough, but always leading somewhere. The difference now was that you wouldn’t be there at the end.

Kamloops Lake lingered in my mind, that serene body of water had once been a destination we looked forward to, but now it was merely a fleeting moment in my journey. I would remember this sunset over the lake, holding within it the unspoken regrets and the time we could never get back.

As the sun dipped behind the mountains, the sky began to darken. I knew the road ahead was long, and Saskatchewan was still far off in the distance. But you, you had become part of my past, left behind in the memories I carried with me. The radio kept playing, its melodies filling the car, offering me some small comfort as I pressed on alone.

I didn’t stop then, and I won’t stop now. With all the lingering regrets and thoughts of you, I will keep going, heading toward an uncertain future.