God, this is pretty short. It looked longer on paper. Oh well. So, yah, some angsty Stendy here. I'm usually not one for Stan x Wendy, but I was listening to music, and I was all like, 'oh my God, this is perfect!', so I wrote it. Anyway, the song here is 'Title and Registration' by Death Cab for Cutie, which is an amazing song.....anyway, read, enjoy, hate, review, flame, whatever you want.

Disclaimer: I'm getting really tired of writing these...I don't own South Park. If I did, you'd know. 'Cuz I'd rub it in your face.

The glove compartment isn't accurately named

and everybody knows it

so I'm proposing

a swift and orderly change

Stan rummaged around in the small space, pulling out papers and CDs. The muted sounds of raindrops hitting the roof washed over him, riverlets of water blurring his windshield, making the dark night outside nothing but a mess of black. He cursed, low and muttering. Where was it? He bit back a yell as he hit something metal, that hook at the top. Stan glanced at he sign outside.

Exit 26A, 2 ½ mi. Exit 26B, 5 ½ mi.

He couldn't remember which exit he as supposed to take. He growled. Where was that damned map? He pulled out some more papers, and a couple of photographs fell out. Stan froze.

Cause behind it's doors,

there's nothing to keep m fingers warm,

all I find are souvenirs from better times

before the gleam of our taillights fading east

to find yourself a better life

Picking them up, he examined them, a familiar feeling of emptiness in his chest. It was him and Wendy at the county fair. How long ago had that been? Two years? Three?

A lifetime?

He still remembered that day, carefree and happy as they rode the Ferris wheel and ate cotton candy. It was one of the few memories he had when everything had still been perfect. So simple, not complicated or angry in the least.

He didn't even know he still had these pictures.

I was searching for some legal documents

as the rain beat down on the hood

when I stumbled upon

pictures I tried to forget

He wanted to throw the photo out into the rain. As if he needed any more reminders of why he was leaving. Stan crumpled them up, rolling down his window, but...he couldn't do it. He just couldn't throw away some of the only things he had left of her. No matter how much it hurt him inside just to look at the smiles on their faces in the old photographs.

The rain pattered inside, dripping onto his seat and wetting his shirt. Stan looked up to the cloudy night sky, water that wasn't entirely rain running down his cheeks.

And that's how this idea

was drilled into my head

cause it's too important

to stay the way it's been

Stan closed the window, his hair dripping. He ignored it, memories running though his head.

Him and Wendy, walking in the park. She was spirited today, a fire in her voice and eyes as she condemned the actions of corrupt government officials in today's society. Stan had barely been listening. He was too caught up in the passion of her beautiful voice and the gleam in her lovely eyes. He just nodded along, happy when she smiled at him.

Waving goodbye to Kyle, wishing him good luck at his new job in New York. He was going to be a great literature professor, Stan knew it for sure. He felt sad at losing his best friend, but then Wendy had called him. He had felt better then. After all, he still had Wendy, right? He would stay with her forever...

Opening the door to their new house, telling Wendy to open her eyes. That tiny flash of disappointment in her eyes as she realized it wasn't as big or grand as she'd thought it'd be. Stan had noticed, but thrown his worries aside. He'd work harder, save more, and he'd buy a better house soon. Anything for his Wendy.

The slight flutter of panic as she failed to give him a kiss before he left for work. She hadn't done it in a while, actually. But, it was just a phase, right? Everybody went through it. Soon they'd be right on track again, and everything would be perfect again.

But there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade

and now that it's gone

it's like it wasn't there at all

and here I rest where

disappointment and regret collide

lying awake at night

Stan had seen the signs. He knew it had been falling apart, just like so many times before. Wendy had wanted too much from him, too much in too little time.

But he had tried, tried to the point of completely breaking, to give her what she wanted. He had loved her so much, had given her his whole entire life, for her to be happy. It just hadn't been enough. He had seen the signs and ignored them, turning a blind eye in the hopes that soon things would get better. They didn't. So hadn't been overly surprised when Wendy finally left him.

Now he was leaving it all behind.

Looking down, he saw the map lying among the spilled papers. Picking it up, he opened it, wearily scanning its images. He had been wrong on both accounts. It was Exit 27 he had to take, not Exit 26A or B. He glanced back at the crumpled pictures.

It wasn't running away. Not really.

Putting his car in drive, he continued forward, the red shine of his taillights fading into the black night as he followed a road to nowhere.