Sing it back

Around twilight on Sunday, I was driving home from my parents' house after eating a nice dinner and watching the game. I felt pretty good, but there was also a gnawing at the back of my brain; some part of me felt empty. I began thinking about our contradictory emotional nature as humans: how we can feel happy and sad all at once. I guess, I thought, the word would be: bittersweet.
A second after I thought this, the song "Bittersweet Symphony," by The Verve, came on the radio. If you've ever heard the song, you know that the intro is strings playing a wistful harmony. If you haven't heard it, go listen to it before you read on so you can catch my mood.
I turned left onto my street, which has a bunch of old trees on each side which tower above the street, providing a sort of canopy; many of these trees are jacarandas (with the pretty purple flowers). The leaves of the trees nearly meet in the middle, but there is a strip of open sky available to anyone who wishes to look up. I looked up. As the singer began to sing, as I began the slow drive toward my house, I looked in between the trees to see a plane flying low (I live near the Long Beach Airport), going the opposite direction. We both kept moving toward each other until we converged, and I nearly came to a stop as I watched the bottom of the plane as it flew by me. It passed out of sight and I watched it descend in my rearview mirror until it disappeared.
I pulled into my driveway and sat for a minute, maybe two, and listened to the song. It was the perfect soundtrack to that particular moment in time.
I knew, as I sat there, that I couldn't stop time, that it would keep moving whether I wanted it to or not.
We all converge for a brief time until we pass by one another, and we watch each other recede in our rearview mirrors until we disappear.
Those few brief moments we've had have been sweet, and the flying by can be bitter, but only if we let it be. The people in my life are amazing, and in the most selfish sense, I want to freeze the frame, put it in an album, and hide it away so I can look at it when I get sad. But at the same time, I don't want anyone to stop at all. I want all these people I love to keep flying on to their next destinations so they can have new experiences in other places.
Yeah, it's a bittersweet symphony.
But I prefer the sweet, don't you?