There have been so many big things happening for the past few weeks; it's pretty crazy to think that it's only been a little over a month since I flew out to Taiwan in March.

We're getting rid of my car this week. It's been something that's been in the background for a few years and it's always been a tender topic for me.

There's an episode of King of the Hill where Hank becomes very emotional at the idea of his truck dying, treating it as if it were a living person. It was fun and we can laugh at it, but it's kinda funny how true the feeling can actually be and how sad it is when it happens.

I never really cared so much about getting a car or learning to drive when I was younger, but I was very lucky to get one when starting college and it really opened my world; I felt a sense of independence and freedom that I didn't expect.

In 2001, I chose to get an automatic blue Toyota Echo. It was a cheaper car with good mileage, very spacious insides for such a small bubbly frame, and with seats with very subtly colored patterns on light grey. It had four doors (I don't understand why someone would choose only two doors. >.>) and manual windows for personal freedom. It was small, simple, yet open, and efficient.

I think being able to make choices about my car was a very big thing for me; it's a form of self expression and even a bit like character creation. The care you put into choices and customizing it becomes a representation of how you feel about yourself. I didn't think about it that way at the time though and didn't expect a bond to happen, but it did. It must have been all those long drives where it was just the two of us. I was alone, yet I wasn't. When I was lost, it was there to comfort and protect me. When I was sad, it was the place I could retreat to. Playing music was almost like we were singing along together and it never had problems; always dependable.

I had pride about my mileage when I heard other people talk about gas and I loved the idea of keeping the insides tidy and clear of junk. It had a small engine so you can hear it working hard when going up steep hills and I couldn't help but to cheer it on.

Having to give up my car has been really hard for me, but it has to be done. I admit too that I haven't been good to it over the past five years because it's been sitting around baking in the sun. It always hurt to see it that way, but I'd turn my eye and ran from the problem. Luckily we recently met a nice man who seems interested in taking it in; he's been helping getting it back into running shape. Having my car simply move after the tires were filled up got me emotional seeing it coming back to life. It hurt too though; I felt so guilty.

In a way, it feels like I'm losing another family member and it hurts so much.

Good bye my dear Blue Car. I'm so sorry.

UPDATE: The man ended up buying my car the day afterwards. I was really sad, but it helped a lot knowing that he seemed like a cool guy and that he appreciates it. I'm happy at the thought that my car might finally have another good home.