Back in the day; circa 2002, I was a sophmore in high school. I couldn't wait to turn 16 and be able to drive. Like any typical 15 (going on 25) year old girl, I wanted and thought I needed freedom from everyone. But once I turned 16 and actually had a driver's license and the freedom that goes with it - everyone realized that I couldn't handle it.
The summer that I started driving, which was also summer 2003; I learned some very valuable lessons and it wasn't up until recently that they came into play yet again ( As does everything, think full circle here people). So back to my point of not being able to handle the privledge I was given...
I began dating someone who was definately not and I stress 'not' compatible to me in any way. He was older, more experienced, I thought he was wiser than myself (and at 16, he was to a certain extent) and not to mention, he was everything that my father hated. He was from a nearby town but had family members living in The Bronx, NY. Let's just call him Mark. Mark had no driver's license at 22 years old and he was and immigrant of Jamaica. Little did I know, but came to find out close to the time we had separated, that he was married to a woman to become a citizen of the United States. Every sign and signal that one person could receive to alert them that someone is not right for them was blaring all around me and I never knew. Until we starting visiting The Bronx...
At that point in time, Mark and I were using my car and my gas to go to New York at least three times a week. I still had a curfew so there was always a time restriction. I used to lie to my father like it was nothing to get to stay out later so I would have enough time to get home from New York before I got grounded for being late. It worked nearly everytime until that night I came home reeking of reefer.
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