I wasn't looking for trouble, getting even was the last thing on my mind. I was just over bored and drowning in all the time on my hands. My anxiety rose as night fell, and when the walls started closing in, I knew I had to get out.

      I was restless and jumpy, searching for something un-named, as I prowled the deserted streets. I drove slowly, aimlessly; hugging the corners, splashing through puddles of light, as the wheel slid through my fingers. I was tender as a raw nerve, looking for something to soothe me.

      So I turned the radio on. As the music invaded, I let it take me over. I turned it up loud and sang along with the songs and soon I began to feel better. Before I knew it I was out of the city, flying down the highway with the wind in my hair; enjoying the music and the open road and feeling good again.

      I was clipping along at a pretty good clop when I heard it, and though I'd never heard the song before, I knew right away what it was. I knew it was him and I knew it was about me and I knew I couldn't stop what was coming next.

      I found myself falling back, kicking sleeping dogs on the way. The memories twisted past dusty spots long forgotten until the cobwebs fell away, revealing surfaces still too bright. I remembered what he said and how he sounded and what the whole ride felt like. A lifetime ago.

      Of course I saw him right away when I walked in that night. He was standing in the spotlight center stage. He saw me too and he smiled in my direction, so I smiled back. His eyes followed me as I crossed the crowded room, and as he sang, it seemed he was singing just for me.

      When he finished his set he came and sat at my table. I had come for the music, but I didn't mind the company - although he wasn't my type at all; well, at least that's what I would have said. He was a little too young, a little too green, but who can explain attraction? We hit it off right away and when I looked up I was startled to find that years had gone by. Sure, there were differences between us, but we had music in common and we had love in common and for a long time, that was enough.

      I don't really know how it happened, but somewhere along the way, things changed and what had been right began to go wrong until it all fell apart.

      For far too long I tried to hang on to the pieces, but it was all just too crumbly. Finally there wasn't much left and what was mostly felt like someone else's life. How disappointing to find that the magic was just a cheap parlor trick, but once aware you can't un-know and I never was any good at pretending. I watched his growing hat size with alarm on all those snowy, sleepless nights. His arrogance swirled around him like a cape, until he got too hip and had to go - leaving behind dirty little secrets and un-paid bills; tainting all my memories, fouling and defiling, until all that was good was gone.

      I had always thought that in the end I would get away clean, without a scratch; so I was stunned by his unexpected cruelty. For he was not content to simply walk away. Nor was it enough for him to leave me, merely crushed and broken on the floor. Oh no, he had to have more, much more. He wasn't satisfied until he had savagely kicked me deep into a hole, until I was barely breathing, numb from his cold.

      So after all that, after everything he'd done, after pushing me past what I thought I could stand, to hear him on the radio with one more hit was the last and final blow. He wasn't just singing a song, he was re-writing history. My history. He was using words as weapons, oh so subtly shifting the blame; he had carefully twisted the truth in his favor, while keeping me tangled up in his lines.

      And suddenly seeing red, I stopped, seething.

      As I waited for the light to change, I idly wondered why he never had to suffer the consequences. Wasn't it odd that I never got even? Going through the motives confirmed I had cause to effect, so I wondered - why not? Why shouldn't he face the music? I imagined him dancing in my headlights, then rolling under my wheels and I began to think that maybe it was time I started wearing black.

      I knew what to do and I knew where to go, for I had seen a sign. "One Night Only" is what it said. An arrow pointed the way, urging me on as I turned that corner, going back. My thoughts were dark as I rode down the road and as I crossed a bridge I felt for my matches. I lit a cigarette as I silently rolled to a stop. And then, lights out, I waited.

      But as I waited, the whole thing began to seem absurd. What was I thinking? What was I doing? What had he driven me to? I watched the last of the people leaving and still I lingered. I knew I should go home. I knew I shouldn't stay there. I knew I should stop myself. But suddenly it was too late, for without warning, there he was, standing on the pavement up ahead - the star of the street light. He looked my way, peering into the darkness. Did he feel me there waiting?

      My foot flexed, poised above the peddle. I knew that with just one more step I'd have gone a foot too far. So I hesitated, holding my breath; but then he fumbled for his keys and from far away I heard an engine rev. As I looked between white knuckles I saw my dear in the headlights, frozen in fear. For once he played his part without a sound.

      He was suddenly animated as I passed, legs akimbo, arms flailing. His black case flew high into the air, opening as it spun in the lamplight, sending silver rain down on his head as he sprawled in the street - bewildered by his narrow escape.

      And as I drove away I could feel myself finally climbing up out of the hole that he had thrown me in. Getting up off my knees and back on my feet. Not just getting even, but rising, as I left his town.