Friday night I was cut off going home.

I dislike drama for the sake of being dramatic. But, the officer did say he was surprised I came out unscathed.

I was driving north on Harbor and a car just slightly ahead of me to the left went instantly from the #3 lane, across the #2 lane, and into mine. It was if someone had grabbed their wheel and just jerked it. There was no way to avoid a collision. They hit me, I doubt I even have time to touch my brakes before the impact launched me sideways. I slammed into the curb, instantly flipping my car onto its passenger side. Still going well over 30 miles per hour, I helplessly slid a many car lengths down the sidewalk, only stopping because my car slammed in between an electrical post and a light post. If not for that, a sever drop off was awaiting me. That would have definitely change the outcome of my night.

Suspended and sideways, I unbuckled myself and did a controlled fall into the passenger side. I was trapped for a minute because I could not open my driver-side door which was now a hatch well over six feet above me. Luckily, a kindly passerby had stopped to help me out. Before escaping, I quickly dug around and found my phone on the floor, but I could not remove my keys from the ignition. I hoped down off the side, now top of my destroyed car, smoking and leaking unknown fluids.

Once away from the wreckage, I checked for broken bones. I felt shaken, but not shattered or mangled. I looked back at the thing that used to be my car and whispered, fuck.

I sat on the curb and waited for the cops, I did not approach the other driver who it seemed had stopped up the road. I waited. The officer, after twice giving me the breathalyzer, told me that it wasn’t working and had to wait to get a new one. I waited. I took a field sobriety test. The officer looked at my eyes with a penlight and I blew a third time. I waited. They asked how I was going to get home, I asked for a ride, and they responded that I should call a friend or Uber. How kind. I decided to walk the 20 minutes home, it would give me time to think.

Since the death of my Civic, I’ve been driving the Chevelle again. I forgot how beat up it was. I’ve been neglecting it. A new paint job and an all-new interior are desperately needed. Not sure what I’ll do. I really could get by with just the Chevelle. That Civic was my first new car. I had treated it well. Low mileage. Perfect shape. Waxed regularly. Paid off. When I first got the car I thought, you and me are going to be together a long time. And I looked at that empty passenger seat, smiled and thought, one day, someone special will sit there. This loss, it feels symbolic somehow, goes to show you my state of mind I guess.

Everything is temporary.