When my phone rang at one in the morning, I was surprised to say the least. I got even more surprised when it was you that was calling. Especially after what happened. It had been a year, and even though we lived in the same city, I never saw you after that night. And even though I don’t like to admit it, I looked for you.

You asked me to get ice cream, which what was we used to do all the time. I swear I was getting sucked back into time. I hesitated, drowsy and confused. But for some strange reason, I said yes.

We met at the subway stop we always used to go to. You grew your hair out and looked exhausted. It was a summer night, and you were wearing that ratty old t-shirt that I always said I hated, but secretly loved. You looked at me nervously, like I was going to call you out, but I simply pulled your arm and walked towards the ice cream place.

Every time I pass this place, my heart hurts. I wonder if yours hurts too.

You order your usual, mint chocolate chip with chocolate sprinkles. I used to make fun of you all the time for the chocolate sprinkles but now I was quiet, unsure of what to say. I got cookie dough and we sat down in that same old stupid booth.

“So, how’ve you been?” You asked, taking a huge bite of your ice cream.

I shrugged and said, “I’m okay.”

You nodded, as if you understood what I was thinking. We sat there in silence, eating our damn ice cream, and pretty soon I was regretting I ever came.

“What are we-“ I was cut off before I could say anything else. You grabbed my hand, pulled me from the booth, and quickly walked out the door. I didn’t even get to finish my ice cream.

“I want to show you something,” you said. You sped up your pace and I was having trouble keeping up with you. I forgot how fast you were.

We kept walking for a few blocks, and then I saw it.

“Oh my god.”

“I know, right?” You said.

It was a brand new Jeep Wrangler. The one we always talked about getting. We spent so many nights talking about doing a cross country road trip with that thing, and now that it was here in front of me, all I could feel was an empty pit of sadness.

“Wanna go for a ride?” You waggled your eyebrows and pulled out the keys. The sadness subsided, and I laughed, nodding my head.

We got in and you started the engine. Pretty soon we were soaring through the city. You pulled the soft top down, and the wind was blowing in my face. It felt incredible. I stuck my hand out and moved my hand up and down, letting the wind guide me.

“Amazing, right?” You said. I nodded enthusiastically and looked out into the bright city lights. It was late, and there weren’t too many people on the roads.

“Do it,” you said. I turned my head.

“Do what?”

“You know.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” I said, shaking my head.

“You have to,” you said. And then for a second, you looked into my eyes and it felt like no time had passed. I grinned.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” I said. I moved into the back seat, and slowly rose. I held on to the sides of the roof and straightened out my legs.

Soon, my arms were wide open and the wind was blowing everywhere. My hair was insane, and my clothes tangled with each gust of wind.

I started laughing and you sped up the car. You started heading toward the bridge. I looked down at you, surprised, and you looked back up and smiled.

We got to the bridge, and I swear, it was the greatest moment of my life. The bridge was lit up and the city was behind us, and in front of us was a clear open road.

I looked up at the stars and laughed in disbelief. You laughed and we both laughed together. Some Maroon 5 song was playing and soon I felt drizzles of rain falling down. But I didn’t care.

And even though we haven’t seen or talked to each other in a year, it felt like we had been together this whole time. In this Jeep, driving through the city, getting ice cream. It felt familiar. It felt real.

We rocketed through the bridge, and I had this feeling. This feeling of forever.