There is only one more payment to be made and my car, all 75,000+ well driven and overly used bit of her, will be mine.
According to Room mate #1, I should have sold her a long time ago. He generally has an automobile for about three years, then poof, time for a new one. There's a new Mustang sitting in the garage right now. Just bought after he banished his last one to the Used Car Lot. Not me, I believe in using a car until it's done. Until the poor thing doesn't have any life left in it.
And Sammy still has plenty of get up and go in her.
Besides, there are too many memories associated with that car.
Memories that involve long, slow kisses that made time stop. Memories that revolve around the feel of hands on my back. Memories that just won't leave. Memories that can't leave. Memories that I wish would leave. Memories that are relived every time I get into my car.
Every now and then they overcome me, the memories, and I sit in my car and cry. My car is the only one who has seen me cry lately. I refuse to do it in public. My pain is private now. My heart aches openly only in one place, my front seat.
I can never get rid of that car.