This is a really complicated answer because to understand it you have to understand my relationships with people. I hate my family, and I'm not completely comfortable in that, in fact I often feel very guilty of that fact, however it's not something i can change, I genuinely do not like them as people, and feel no obligatory affection towards them simply because we're related. People think I'm awful because of it, but it's the truth, I have no desire to be closer with any family member of mine.

I feel like that first chunk and this next chunk are very disjointed, sorry, but these were really the only two cohesive thoughts that this prompt gave me. I suppose I could flesh them out a bit but I don't really have the patience for that right now. So read on.

I had a very close friend for many years of my life and finally strained the friendship with my erratic behavior and emotions to the point where I said something very hurtful and effectively ruined that relationship forever. I still think about him on a daily basis and I miss the close friendship we had. So i wish I were closer to Alex Glossman even though he's essentially a stranger to me now.

The places my brain goes with these things...

It's much more interesting to describe the second time I drove a vehicle, but I'll start with the first. My parents would not pay for my sister and I to go to driving school so in my state, that meant we had to wait until we were 17 to get our learner's permit, and 17 1/2 to get our licenses. So on our 17th birthy my mother took my sister and I to the DMV and after we got our papers all filed away my mother took us to the high school parking lot where, my sister and I, took 15 minute turns learning to drive. Please keep in mind this was not an empty parking lot, not even a mostly empty parking lot; it was perhaps, half full. Most importantly however, was the presence of two very large, very solid school buses, parked about 10 feel apart from each other. For the first hour of our lessons my sister and I drove forward, backwards, in circles, we even did some figure eights to "get a feel for the turning radius" of the car. Then my mom said to me "why don't you try going through the buses." "Uhhhh no." And she laughed.

In retrospect this would not have been dangerous at all, but my first time behind the wheel it was petrifying.

Now on to my second time driving a vehicle. About two weeks later (my parents were very busy) my mom said we could have another driving lesson, but this time it was going to be on the road. I should mention that, for the most part, I live on a pretty quiet street. In fact, my neighborhood is where all the local driving schools bring their little official cars to teach their fresh, green, drivers, how to maneuver the roads. That being said, I was again petrified. I tried to drive around the block, but I had only just turned the first corner before I had a complete panic attack and could not do it.

I didn't drive for another 5 months, until I had to practice to get my driver's license.

In that month long period (ish) I became perfectly comfortable driving and of course passed my test, but it amuses me now, to look back at something I do every day without incident and think of how scared I was when I first started driving. It makes me wonder if this was the same fear I felt as a baby when I was learning to walk.

Of course, when I was learning to walk, there wasn't a two ton shell of steel armor threatening to be crushed in on me at any impact, but still, they're not called "softwood floors."