Encapsuled

Once in a while when I drive home late at night (or rather, in the morning), instead of getting out of the car right away, I sit in the car for a while in the darkness and, sometimes, in the music.

There's something comforting about being in a car that makes it the one small enclosed place where I don't feel claustrophobic in the least. It feels like this safe little observation booth to watch the world go by.

On the radio at that hour, it's usually sentimental shite, but that is sometimes my guilty pleasure. I sit in the solitary darkness singing to the lovey dovey crooning without feeling like a putz - tonight, it was "On Bended Knee" by Boyz II Men with its cheesy but catchy and very melodic chorus.

And, somehow, these girl-in-a-bubble moments feel special, like quality time with myself, and the feeling isn't much different from that of holding hands with someone you love while watching the sunset.

And, somehow, it's moments like these that almost make me feel like I will never need anyone to love, like when I spend time by the ocean.

Almost.