Apparently cars are female, like ships. It’s never been clear to me why that’s the case, I think perhaps it’s to do with living in a patriarchy and ownership of the female form, plus some men’s inexplicable need to be able to say “Isn’t she a beauty?” but since I clearly don’t hold with that crap, I’ve always thought of you as male.
Look, we both know this isn’t working, and hasn’t been for some time now. In fact, if we’re honest, we’ve never really been right for each other.
Ours has been a relationship of convenience, but it just isn’t enough for me anymore. I want other things too, like airbags and air conditioning, and…other air products. I think we can both agree things took a turn for the worse when we had a second child, before that we could almost kid ourselves it might work, but that extra car seat in the back did nothing for our already fragile situation.
We want different things you and I. Like for example- I want to know, when I set out to go somewhere, that I’ll reach my destination. And you claim to want the same thing, but I can tell your heart isn’t really in it. And since we’re being honest here, I’ve got to say, I’ve tried so hard to look past your lack of a second gear, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult and I can’t ignore it anymore. I need a second gear. There, I said it. God, it feels good to get that off my chest!
I’m not blaming you, I know I could have worked harder at our relationship, put more (oil) in. But it’s always seemed so pointless, it’s like deep-down I knew that no matter how much effort I made, you wouldn’t be what I need, so I just stopped trying. For that I’m sorry. You deserve better. I don’t know what’s next for you, but I hope you find someone who can work out your radio code so you can make sweet music once again.
In the meantime, let’s try to be civilised. I understand you’re feeling betrayed right now, but the thing with the brakes? That was a low move. Just because I’m trading you in for a younger, sexier model, doesn’t mean you should try to kill me. Have the last 3 years meant nothing to you? Can’t we just enjoy our last week together?
Lukewarm feelings bordering on ambivalance,
Oh and p.s. Size? IT DOES MATTER!