...in that weird way in which people get attached to their vehicles.
I occasionally see commercials that try and capitalize on that idiom most recently for station wagons. That particular bit of advertising used both warm and fuzzy nostalgia and the heat of first love remembered (for an actual lover, not necessarily the car).
It's funny because I'm currently searching for both a new car and a new love... and I'm feeling doubly put upon because, while I've been single and lonely for quite some time (it's been almost a decade since I've been in any sort of relationship beyond wishful thinking and a few one night stands), my '93 Jeep Cherokee has always been there for me when I needed her.
Until now, I guess....
Sure, if I had the money, I'd love to give her a huge refit... fix all that needs fixing, replace all that needs replacing. As it happens, unfortunately, I've only had enough to keep her limping along... and have now hit the breaking point.
I've done a serious disservice to something I say I love. I couldn't afford to take care of her properly and literally can't afford to keep her going. Already in debt for the last repair (only a month gone by) this new problem with her innards is way beyond my budget. I wish I had the courage go even deeper into the red to resurrect her, but I don't.
I'm a coward for not saving my Jeep. I feel it every day as I ride past her on my current mode of transportation. And I think said cowardice is a symptom of why I'm still missing out in other areas of my life. Perhaps it is a reflection of my personality flaws.
Perhaps I'm reaching... over-thinking it too much in my lack-of-funds/lack-of-car/lack-of-love depression?
....
...could be.
Either way, I miss my Jeep.
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