I'm in a relationship that has not been working out lately. The maintenance has become too much to bear, and the spark that was once there is long extinguished. After feeling stuck for some time now, I'm finally ready to say goodbye. And I'm not finding it difficult at all.
What? Oh no, not the BF. We're still good. I'm talking about the woman in my life, Delores the Taurus, about whom I've complained on this forum many times.
Delores is the only car I've ever owned. Shortly before my senior year of high school, I went to a used car lot and fell in love. Well, I'm pretty sure I would have fallen in love with any affordable car given my newly acquired driver license and a small but not insignificant amount of saved money burning a hole in my pocket. At first, I'd fallen for a 2004 Dodge Neon, but it was manual, and my mom refused to teach me how to drive it. Then I found Delores, a 2002 Ford Taurus that, at the time, was a pretty damn nice car. I think 17-year-old Chrislove was most taken in by the leather interior. But again, it was affordable, I needed (in the teenage boy kind of way) a car, and it soon became mine.
The car served me well for some time, through my senior year of high school and four years of college. Things began to sour when I got ready to move to Houston. That's when I found out that several Pennsylvania winters had rusted out the K frame. That was my first major expense. It all went downhill from there as I moved an aging, rusting Delores down south. Little things, big things, A/C problems, a transmission failure, check engine lights, bad brakes, you know how it goes. I was devoted to Delores, convinced we had several years left. Now I'm convinced it is not meant to be.
It is now official--the BF will be getting another car soon, and I'm buying his (much less used) Toyota Corolla from his parents at a very good price. It is in excellent condition and likely has several more years and another one or two hundred thousand miles to go. As part of the deal, it's getting a fresh paint job on Monday, and it will be here on Friday (coincidentally, my birthday). As I round up my title and take all of the steps necessary to sell my car (probably to Carmax for whatever they're willing to give me), I have no mixed feelings. I expected to have an emotional attachment because, well, it's my first car, and I made many memories in it. But not so.
Yes, Taylor Dayne, sometimes saying goodbye is a very easy thing indeed. No more silently praying to Ceiling Cat every time I turn the key in the ignition, no more putting off inspection because I just know they're going to find a problem that I can't afford to fix, no more suffering in the Houston heat because my A/C doesn't work. I have a lot of anxiety about many things, but I'm finding that a great deal of it can be traced back to Delores. I'll be happy to put an end to this relationship. And love will not lead me back.
Now, I will keep my fingers crossed that Delores won't decide to screw me over one last time by dying before I can complete the sale. And I just need to come up with a name for the new car. Viola the Corolla?
That's what's on my mind tonight. What do you want to kibitz about?
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