Life With A Side Of Autism

LIFE WITH A SIDE OF AUTISM

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Dear Guy Who Almost Killed Me Last Night


I don't know if you even saw me.

I saw you, of course. I didn't have much choice since you crossed two lanes to pull off to the shoulder, and one of them was mine.

And see, the thing is, I wasn't done using my lane. If I hadn't slammed on my brakes and removed half an inch of tread from my tires, I wouldn't be here to bitch about you today.

But that's not the thing, really.

The thing really is that you were going so very fast, and crossing so quickly that if we'd have connected (on the driver's side front), you could have injured me badly. You likely could have killed me. And all to get across my lane and fast, saving yourself a few seconds at most.

I have a daughter. She's fourteen. And at this age, I'm really trying to get across to her that one day she'll be on her own, and one split-second foolish decision can all too easily alter the entire course of your life. Saying yes to that unknown pill at a party. Saying okay when a guy says no to a condom. Saying no when a friend offers to drive you home because you think you're probably okay to drive after a few beers. 

Life is fragile, I tell her. And you only get one. 

No inconvenience, no momentary rush of fun or pleasure, no one's favorable opinion is ever worth risking that one life of yours. Or anyone else's. Ever.

Today you risked your life, and mine. And you risked impacting the lives of my kids, my family, my friends, and all of your family and friends as well. Just to get somewhere a little faster.

Maybe your car was breaking down. Maybe you just got a very important phone call and had to take it. Maybe you were transporting a squid and it got nervous and sprayed ink and you were afraid it was setting into your upholstery. I have no idea.

It didn't matter. It didn't matter enough to almost die for. Not for you, and not for me.

Please, not for me.

I've only got this one life, and I intend to make the most of it.

No comments:

Post a Comment