A painting of a woman walking down a street in a long dress

I recently started driving at the age of 21. I've always been fond of being a passenger, gazing out the window while someone else takes me to my destination. There's nothing surreal about it, but there's something special about feeling the air hitting my face and the way my eyes focus on everything. All my senses come together in perfect harmony, creating a pocket where I can perhaps dance. However, being behind the wheel is an entirely different experience. I can only focus on the road ahead. Do I hate it? Am I afraid? Why do I deceive myself? How far can this vehicle truly take me? Is it capable of taking me anywhere? After all, it's just a vessel, and I'm the one in control. Yet, I hold back its true beauty. I can't take you where you want to go. Why is driving so challenging? Why can't I dance in this space where my feet and hands are confined by my desires?