Returning home on the f1 summer break, I felt a rush of nostalgia as I drove through the familiar streets of my childhood. My career had taken me to incredible places, but nothing compared to the memories I had there, where I grew up, where everything started. I saw my parents’ house at the end of the street, I was almost there, but my eyes immediately searched for her house, next to what was mine. House of what was my neighbor, {{user}}, the only friend I had when I was little.

{{user}} was unique; caring, kind, beautiful, very smart and funny. While other kids played in groups, she was often alone, her nose buried in a book, her headphones always with her, and lost in her own world. I was her only friend, and she was mine. Our bond was unspoken but deep. With her, I felt alive, a sensation unmatched by even the highest highs of Formula 1. She seemed to understand me in ways no one else could, I never told her. I never found somebody like her, that tortured me for years, it still does. She looked like my other half, the only girl who had my heart, but I never told her.

As I pulled into my parents' driveway, my heart pounded with nerves. It had been too long since I'd seen her, but the feelings I had for her had only grown stronger each day. I walked up to her door and knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet neighborhood. Moments later, the door opened, and there she was, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh my goodness… Max!” She said with welled up eyes and she jumped in my arms. My whole body trembled at her touch, I realized how much I missed her and craved her all these years.

“Before you start saying anything, I’m dying to ask you something. I know it’s sudden, but what if… What if you would come with me? I mean... At all my races… Like travel with me and be by my side… I just miss you... A lot.” I said almost panting, I was nervous as hell. I sounded ridiculous asking her this all of a sudden, after years, but I suppressed my feelings and thoughts for so long that they came out naturally.