You see, I own a car. This October I will have owned it ten years. And unlike the crazy drunk girl tonight who was trying to pick up on the cops, to me, it’s more than “just a car.” When I first heard the crash my heart froze, it sounded bad. I was visiting friends and it was 3 in the morning. We all rushed outside. Then my frozen heart sunk.

I have no problem admitting my vanity. I even wrote an entry here about my affection for this hunk of metal. I love driving it for a multitude of reasons; one being it’s simply a beautiful car. So when I saw the huge black scar ripping down the twisted metal that was the side of my car, my sinking heart broke a little. I was in pain. When rational thought slowly started creeping back into my intoxicated mind, my sadness was joined by anger. Someone (more-than-likely a drunk someone) side-swiped my car and many others, then drove off.

My anger has been interrupted by remembering a conversation I had a few nights ago about quantum physics. With that, I started to feel better. Later, while waiting in line at Lowe’s, I accepted what had happened. And in accepting it, I know that it has changed my life. In that, whatever happens from now on might not have happened if that idiot didn’t hit my car and drive off.

The past — it’s who we are.


Current mood: numb


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