As I edged my car out of the driveway, I felt the eyes of my children peering through the blinds of their room. Sent there to clean up their messes while I ‘ran an errand’, they most likely would run around the house and eat all the snacks I had carefully hidden in the pantry. I sighed as I flicked on my turn signal and turned left onto Mountain Street. 

There weren’t many cars out tonight; it was a clear night full of stars. The mountains could be seen clearly in the distance as I turned onto the freeway and sped up to join the scraggly remains of the working class heading home. I let my foot urge my car to the highest speed allowed on this stretch of road, then clicked the cruise control. 

Deep breaths. It was time. I turned on the stereo and pulled up my song. Shades of Grey, by Nick Lachey. It wasn’t the best song, or the most popular, but it was the song I needed tonight. I hit play and turned the volume up all the way. The speakers pulsed as his sultry voice filled the car and enveloped me. The lights outside the car all blurred as the tears ran down my face. Blue; everything was blue. 

I pressed the plus button and felt the car jump to a higher cruising speed. Moving to the far lane, I blew past the cars around me. They became glassy blurs as more tears filled my eyes and washed down my face. All the cars, all the lights, everything was blue. Shades of blue.

A police car sped up next to me. The policeman looked in my window and then drew back. He’d seen my tears and faded away. Too much blue here.

The mountains were getting closer. I edged back to the right and flew off the highway, screeching to a stop at the bottom. Why was there a red light? Why aren’t any lights blue? 

I turned right and was back at it. There were no cars on this road tonight. It was just me and my blue. I pushed the gas all the way down and flew. The song was on repeat, urging me forward with each repetition. Everything was blue. 

The buildings along the side of the road blurred and finally disappeared as the Arizona desert swallowed me. Here, there was no city, no bustle, no noise, nothing but blue. I drove til the street turned to dirt; then I stopped. Nick sang on, “all these shades of blue…”

I got out of my car and sat on the roof, letting the blue seep out of my car, out of my eyes, out of my heart, and fill the desert. I watched it pour out around me and lap at the bottom of the saguaros and barrel cacti. The jumping cacti, trying to get away, were swallowed up in it. Nick and I sat there, releasing the blue, til there was nothing left. The car shut off. The tears stopped. The desert sat in stunned silence.

Then, as it does, nature returned. Little sounds of animals and insects. An owl hooted, and a horn honked far away. 

I lay there, looking at the indigo sky, and breathed deeply. I was empty. 

I knew the pain would come again, the grief, the loneliness, all of it, would come again. But, for now, I was empty. I could go home, pick up the pieces once again, and move forward. 

I slid off the roof and climbed back in the car. I took one last look around and then set the desert on fire with my headlights. 

I’d be back, and I’d bring more blue.