Hello all. This'd be my first journal entry on DA.

Anyway, what was it, the day before yesterday that I got into a car accident? Well, accident-ish.

It was foggy and drizzling a bit. It had been all day. It was about 3:45 pm. I had just got done taking my Algebra 2 final. I was turning left out of the school to go home. And, my car being a 2006 Thunderbird with a V8 under the hood, is a little touchy. The turn was fine. But when I pushed on the accelerator just the tiniest bit to flow with the oncoming traffic, that V8 went into action.

My car lost traction and began to spin. I think I almost hit two cars. Or trucks. Whatever. But I ended up in the ditch. My car and I both were perfectly fine. Thank God. My Father would have killed me if I hadn't have already been dead.

I sat there for a moment thinking about my predicament. Meanwhile, a white truck had made a U-turn and had slowed to a stop near me. I saw the owner of the truck get out of the vehicle and start to walk over to me. I snapped back into it and put a smile on. I opened my door and introduced myself. He intrduced himself back but for the life of me I can't even remember the first letter in his name. Come to find out he's an assistant coach at the middle school. Nice man. He asked me something that I don't remember. But my reply was, "One second, please, I need to call my Dad and tell him what has happened." He nodded.

I dialed my Father and told him that I was in the ditch and that the car, and I, were both fine. He asked if I had my AAA card. I said yes and that it was in my glove-compartment. I asked him if he wanted me to call them. He said no. Which was good. He told me not to do anything until he got there and not to try to drive it out. I told him that there was a man that had stopped to help. He asked to speak with him.

They spoke for about five minutes or so, I didn't really listen to the conversation. But I guess from the conversation the man had convinced my Father that we could drive it out. And, if not, he had a work truck that could pull me out if need be.

I was a little uneasy about letting the gentleman drive my car. Even if it was to help. But I relinquished and allowed it to happen. He reversed a bit. No luck. Drove forward. No luck. He did the same thing a couple more times and was soon able to drive it out to the shoulder. Extreme happiness and relief flowed through me.

The man stepped out of my car and smiled. I must have thanked him at least five times. He told me that he was going to try to stop traffic so that I could go. I thanked him again and got into my car. He stepped out into the highway and held up his hand. I waited for a clear in the traffic coming from the opposite direction and waved to him as I pulled away.

As I was driving home I released a breath that I seemed to have been holding since I waved my gratitude. My whole body instantaneously relaxed. I began to think about the past few days and a little problem that I've been dealing with. I found myself suddenly wanting to have gotten hurt in my accident that had just happened. Just so that I could see if a guy, that I love and completely adore, would fly to Texas and come visit me in the hospital or if he'd just blow it off and hope that I had died instead.

I wanted to cry with the last thought. Surely he couldn't hate me that much. I felt the prickling of oncoming tears in my eyes and my heart began to hurt. A sensation that I've been feeling a lot of lately. I almost pulled over so that I could take time to cry. But I knew that I had to get home to reassure my Father that I was ok.

I got back home and pulled into the garage. I took a shaky breath. And put a smile on for Dad. I got out of my car and into the house and headed for my Father's room. He met me outside of his door. I smiled a little wider and gave him a hug. The hug lasted longer than usual. It was one that I needed for reasons other than just the accident.

We went back into his room and talked for a bit as I laid across his bed and he sat in his chair. His day wasn't going well either. No good news at all. Just bad. And the day didn't get any better. Nor did it get any worse.

Weird how my thoughts after the accident were hoping that I had been hurt. Just so that I could find out if he still cared for me and is just temporarily full of hate. Or if he really does despise me.

He hates me, he hates me not?

[.L.o.v.e.&.L.a.t.e.r.s.]