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I Sold The Car

1

I shed a tear when I walked away from the man that bought my car for his wife. I loved that car. Still do. It was cute and young and fun… Three things I used to be and sometimes feel that I’m just not anymore.

As a 20-something it was perfect. My sister and I drove from Pennsylvania to Minnesota and back in that car, with the top down the whole way. Oh, the sunburn.

That car contributed to the air of coolness that surrounded me when my husband first decided he was interested in dating me.

In our early years together we spent countless nights driving around with the top down. He’d drive so I could watch the stars. We’d be covered in ashes when we got home, because smoking in a convertible is a messy affair. Once, on a day trip to the northern rural parts of our county, we were driving down a road that was intersected by a creek. We saw a sign that said “Creek Ahead” and thought, “Nah. They can’t mean in the road.” They did. There was a creek crossing right over the road. We took off our shoes and walked out, to check the depth. It came almost to my knees, which it turns out was just fine, as we drove through it with no ill effects. I wish I had my camera with me that day, or that GPS on phones was commonplace in 2004. I wish I had a picture of my little Cabriolet driving through a creek, and I wish I knew where the hell we were so I could go there again.

That car was the first vehicle that I picked out and purchased all on my own. I got a loan and bought the car. I felt so proud and unique. I used to feel that the car you drove said a lot about who you were. I no longer feel that way, but when I did I sure felt cool for having that car.

Now it’s gone. It’s gone back to New Jersey, from whence she came. I sold the vehicle that I no longer used, that was no longer reliable, to pay off debt and be an adult. I feel responsible and I feel sad.

Lots of people sell their youthful possessions when they get older. And I am older. I will be 32 in October. It was high time I stepped up and sold the toy of my youth, I just wish it didn’t make me feel so damned old.

Posted by MW | Posted in Miscellaneous | Posted on 07-29-2010

Tags: , , ,

Comments (1)

It really sucks to be responsible sometimes! I’m glad you have all these wonderful pictures of “my” dream car ;o)

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