Tail lights

It has happened a few times now. As I sit at the light, waiting to turn onto the highway, I see the red Ac*ra on the corner to my right, with a green light and heading straight onto the highway. A quick glance at the license plate confirms, the car is the (ex)husband's, and my boys are tucked neatly inside. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, waiting impatiently for the light to turn, and growing more anxious as each car that pulls onto the highway separates me from that red SUV. Finally, the light changes, and I sit in traffic, waiting for it to clear a bit so I can change lanes and catch up to that car. I spend a few minutes weaving through traffic, and eventually find myself directly next to the car. I honk my horn, the (ex)husband looks over and waves, rolls down the back window, the boys and I wave frantically to each other, blow kisses, yell that we love each other -- and before I know it, I'm at my exit, and the boys go zooming past. All I see are tail lights, as I pull off the highway with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes, knowing that those few seconds, going 60MPH on the highway, will be the closest I am to my boys that day.