To my first car,
I had learned to drive in my first car; it was my dad's car until it became mine. He taught me how to maintain a constant speed and how to properly use my blinkers (thank God too because who doesn't like when you know how to use your blinkers, am I right?) It was in that car that I had learned that people are not always nice and that being aggressive isn't really that bad of a thing. It was also in that car, that I danced after parallel parking successfully for my first time. My first car holds a lot of memories from the past couple of years and I would not want it any other way.
I took my driver's exam in that car. I remember pulling up to the DMV and feeling so nervous. What if I failed? What if my hours of parallel parking practice the week before had no payoff? How could I drive without my dad in the passenger seat beside me? All I knew was that I had my car and that my car would never fail me.
It definitely did not fail me that day. I had passed my driver's exam with flying colors.
Now, it wasn't until a year later that I officially got to call you mine. I had just started college and being a commuter is difficult when you don't have your own car. Having my own car meant independence and freedom; it meant finally being an adult.
There are certain songs that I hear that remind me of you and all the nights I had spent singing obnoxiously with my friends. There are certain streets that I pass by that I used to drive on every day and I think of you. I still remember the smell of my air freshener and the sound of my tassel moving back and forth on my rearview mirror as if it was yesterday.
Not many people understood why I cared so much about my car because it's "just a car"; but they never understood what that car meant to me. It made me feel independent and it made me feel proud. I could take care of myself and make sure I got to where I needed to go without relying on anyone else. Without my car, I felt incomplete.
In a matter of seconds, I lost my car and now I will always feel incomplete.
Getting another car would not give me the same feeling that my car gave me. My next car will not have the same feel on the steering wheel or the same pressure on the pedals. My next car will not smell like my first car did, nor will it sound like my first car did; and it sure as hell will not be like my first car.
My next car will not reflect the freedom and independence that I once had. And that is why my first car will always hold a special piece of my heart.
My first car was not simply "just a car;" it was the car I learned to drive in and the car I learned to love.
Thank you for never failing me, not even on the last day.
Love, your last (first) owner
