I can't believe it's gone. I don't want to believe it's gone. I mean, it's still sitting right outside my house as if nothing were wrong with it at all. ...But The Beast has passed. It's not coming back this time. And I feel so ...empty. There's this GAPING HOLE in my soul where my car resided for the few months that I've been driving it. And it won't be filled as easily as my parents think. Already they've been searching all over town for a suitable replacement for The Beast, not asking what I think or caring that I'm in mourning for a friend.
And shut up- I don't care if it's "only a car"... It was my car, my friend ...my sanctuary; and I loved it. From the very second I heard the words, "That car is yours," I was out there cleaning every inch of it I could reach with the hose and an old brush and my dad's watervac, making it suitable for ...well, for sitting in without being stunk out by my family's 5 years of previous neglect. And from that moment on, we became best friends, and I loved it. Here was a private sanctuary, when the going got tough. I didn't mind going on errands- it was time for me to be with my car- time to get out of the house and drive; I always took extra time getting from place to place so that I could drive- just get out on the open road and be in my car... You wouldn't understand how precious The Beast is to me. It's just so inexplicable, what I've been through with that car.
I went out and emptied The Beast of every trace of me this morning. I couldn't stand looking at the pile of stuff sitting in my room anymore, so I went back out to The Beast itself and sat on top of it watching the rainclouds move overhead. ...And I cried. I cried. I cried for times past and things that we had yet to do, things like: the friend-graffiti-newpaint-day, drag-racing Ben in his Golden Bullet, driving to the TOP of Lightning Ridge (not just halfway up and getting afraid of overheating), spending at least one night in it away from home, getting it pimped out by KC and Kendall, going stargazing up by Deer Creek, taking it down to the Thistle campground again, and driving Emily and Marisa and other people out to Cali for our senior trip...
It's gone, and it's not coming back. I feel so lost and confused; I don't know where to go next... I hear someone sobbing- I glance around and realize that I'm the one in tears.
All day, staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night, hearing voices
Telling me that I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hope gone, feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown
And I don't know why...
...goodbyes suck hard.
3 comments:
fifita is was her car...the beoved Beast. I really am sorry for you lisa *hug*
man it's hard to think right now. oh, probly cuz I'm listening to a friggin cool awesome song... *switches music to Matchbox Twenty- Unwell...*
*tears up* ...yeah, The Beast is gone. well, it's not gone, it's right outside my house, but STILL- it's just not the same not having it to DRIVE, you know? like, when I went outside to drive somewhere today, it was the strangest thing- I started walking toward The Beast to get in it and drive it, but when I tried to put the key in the lock it was the wrong key and it made me so sad and I was like, "NO! why can't it be working??!?!?"
*angrily snorts* and you know what makes me mad?? I have a new car already. it's the grossest thing ever. no, like, I got in it to like, you know, vacuum it out and what not, and there was like hair and dirt (more than a normal amount...) and this nasty aroma coming off of the seats and remnants of a spilled coke or pepsi or dr. pepper all over the car and it just wasn't the same cleaning it as it was cleaning The Beast cuz The Beast was big and fun and I was totally in my swimsuit and I used the hose inside it and I could take out the back seat and climb on the top without denting it and it was big and fun and I KNEW where all the crap came from that was inside it, vs. the unknown shit (sorry for the language- there's just NO OTHER WAY to put it) inside this other car that I now have that I had to clean out from previous occupants...
but Emily I LOVE YOU!! and I love your memories of The Beast!! duh, you're awesome. I think we SHOULD have a funeral service for it, we really should. you make me so happy for thinking of doing that. and you know what's weird?? I really wanted to make this blog sound like a person had died cuz to me, The Beast WAS a person- it was my friend, for serious. it was an almost-lifetime-friend (my family's had it that long... but what's weird is that I remember the day that we bought it... yeah, weirded out, I know). but it just turned out to be too long- The Beast has just been through too much with us. it's been totaled and then brought back to life, only to have my sister start driving it and get too personal with a telephone pole on a rainy night... it just started falling apart (the ignition fell off the starter post. ...inconceivable), and of course it just HAD to happen when I finally got to drive it and get attached to it.
but you know what's rediculous?? my new car almost needs more repairs than The Beast would need for me to drive it more! it's absolutely revolting and makes me want The Beast back more because it's just so close... and yet so far. I'm sad now.
I hate my new car. but, as my dad says, "it's better than walking," right? ...right? *sadness*
sheesh fifita, don't say anything unless you actually have something to say!!
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