Write Using the Words 'Heartbreak,' 'Brake Fluid,' 'Trust' - Katie Burke

I was the brake fluid in our vehicle, that vehicle being the magnetic, dysfunctional frame that bound us together, no matter how hard it was and how badly both of us wanted out sometimes.

Whenever Jon told me I was too serious, too heavy for him. Whenever I cried more than I laughed for having him in my life. Each time I leaned on him too hard and sensed him trying to shake free. These were the moments I’d serve as the brake fluid, helping us put a stop to our frantic, wild ride of desire.

Being the brake fluid caused me heartbreak. Jon never seemed to realize our car was spinning out of control. The crazy spinouts, the burning of the tires, and the resulting adrenaline rush for both of us seemed normal for him. He’d never been with a woman who didn’t serve as the brake fluid, I knew, for he was still alive, still functioning – although barely – in relationships. Someone had always kept his heart well maintained.

I knew my role was essential to what sanity either of us had left. But I didn’t like it. I always felt that, every time I poured myself into the reservoir and pumped – or slammed on – the brakes, he lost more trust in me. I knew he didn’t joyride with me because he trusted me, but because he loved the thrill. But he didn’t see that, and that’s why my role hurt me so much.

Ultimately, though, it kept us alive. Who knows how rampant either of us would be, had we continued that ride? Seat belts don’t save lives in every crash, and ours might have been an ugly one, had I not been there to prevent it.

But, like so many dangerous aspects of life, being a co-passenger in our driver-less car was some of the best fun I’ve ever had.