Dear Old Lady That Tried to Kill Me

Merge lanes are for merging.  They are used so that you don't have to stop at a stop light in order to gain access to a major roadway.  At the worst, you may have to slow down slightly in order to fit into the new traffic.  At best, like it was around 8PM the other night when you tried to murder me, you can zoom right in, because there is absolutely no traffic around. 

So, foolish me, as I maintained a fairly steady pace, some twenty to thirty yards behind you, I turned to verify that no, there were no cars on route 50, the road we were both attempting to merge onto.  I was driving out to see my lady friend.  The pickup truck between us was heading for a late dinner.  You were trolling the highways to up your death count.  In the two seconds I had looked to the left to check traffic, you had slammed on your brakes, ostensibly because you mistook your cataracts for a truck blocking the road.  The pickup behind you was able to veer to the left slightly, just missing your bumper.  I turned back in time to hit my brakes, lessening my speed enough so that I merely obliterated my front bumper, instead of just atomizing it. 

Dazed, I realized the truck driver was standing at my window, asking if I was ok, and telling me if I could to drive my car our of the roadway.  His truck was up ahead, trailer hitch bent towards the ground.  You had taken the opportunity in all of the chaos and confusion to turn yourself and your car into a giant bat and fly away cackling into the night, lest the police question you when they show up.

I suppose I should thank you.  In the end, you gave me something.  No, not the $12,000 in damages to the car I bought five months ago and had paid off two weeks ago.  No, you didn't give me the rental car I'll be driving for the next month, which is a "I'm better than you" freaking PRIUS.  No, it's not the broken watch, broken cell phone, and missing Rocketeer action figure.  What you gave me was bruising up the left side of my body and shoulder, bruising across the waist and clavicle, a cut up my head, and a dislocated thumb.  Why should I thank you for that?  Because it should have been so much worse. 

What you gave me is the realization that I am unbreakable.  Even after being in that bad of a car crash, I still have never broken a bone.  I am invincible.  I am the night.  Unfortunately for me, I don't have a Mr. Glass for an arch nemesis.  I have an elderly lady who should be in jail for fleeing the scene of an accident that she caused, but that doesn't matter. 

Why? 

Because I cannot be broken.  I am forever.  There can be only one, and it will not be you.