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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513450" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Eighteen</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beads of perspiration sweated out of the air we shared inside your Chevrolet. <br>I loved that car. <br>A Chevelle. Fast. <br>Super-fast. <br>Whenever we were together in it you'd drive like you were headed to put out a house fire. <br>What a thrill.<br>Pure adrenaline. I just knew that you were going to kill us both someday. But, on that particular July afternoon you slowed down because it was raining...<br>not the kind of drizzle that teases the plants to <br>stick out their tongues because they are too afraid to die. <br>No, this was a bona fide downpour...<br>the kind of rain that floats trees and turns roads into rivers, and causes the sewers to back up. <br>And I knew, <br>I just knew, <br>that I was gonna need to start a diary to <br>mark it all down with, <br>the same way that parents chart their children's growth each year on the inside of the door jam. <br>When water began pouring in over the floorboards you pulled off onto a gravel road a mile from the highway.<br>It was in that moment I lost all of my highly trained <br>self-control.<br>I was going to give in.<br>I was going to stop listening, <br>listening, <br>to the voice inside my head telling me it was wrong, <br>listening to my parents, listening to God, <br>and only thinking about the sound of the rain beating as loud as my hammering heart was on the car's metal rooftop overhead. <br>Pounding, <br>drowning out every single thought <br>and knowing that I couldn't keep my hands to myself, <br>couldn't keep my fingers out of your hair, <br>couldn't, <br>didn't <br>want to spoil the moment with words because the silence between us was far more potent...<br>and when your lips took mine they felt like they were <br>one hundred degrees Fahrenheit.<br>They were sweet claret wine, and I was intoxicated, <br>so drunk in love, and my head spun, <br>my knees wobbled like I'd just gotten off a carnival ride and later, <br>much later, <br>when our breathing slowed to keep time with the rain that had become bored with us, I remember digging my nails <br>into your blue jeans and begging silently<br>to stay forever young.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sara+Fielder">Sara Fielder</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513450" data-title="Eighteen de Sara Fielder" data-description="Beads of perspiration sweated out of the air we shared inside your Chevrolet. 
I loved that car. 
A Chevelle. Fast. 
Super-fast. 
Whenever we were together in it you'd drive like you were headed to put out a house fire. 
What a thrill.
Pure adrena..."></div>
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