We drive for hours and neither of us change the radio. Life plays like a movie through the windows. A beautiful backdrop of a dying planet. I watch you watch the unfurl. There is no love between us. There is much more, though. There are good days and bad and sleepovers and no lust and cooking and laughing and a little too much crying but a lot of a lot and maybe some love but not enough to break the surface. You smile because you know I am watching. I turn up the music.