Drifting Away

I had to let go of Kevin's car yesterday. Believe me, the car itself was a wreck. Was when Kevin bought it three years ago. When he brought home this crappy blue 1992 Mercury Sable, he assured me it was just for a few months until he could figure out which new car to buy. A few months stretched into a few years. His attitude? It runs so why spend any more money than I need to. Typical.

Well, I had used it only sporadically up until I started working in the city again. Then it became the station car. On my way home Thursday night, the brakes gave out. It was a weird sensation but I was able to stop the car. Just took me longer and required a greater distance. When I got home (I live less than two miles from the train station) I thought maybe it was just my imagination. On Friday, I couldn't get the car to stop at the end of the driveway (I threw it into Park and that did it) so I knew I couldn't muck around with it. I made it to my mechanic's - luckily he's just around the corner - and he knows the car - he sold it to Kevin.

Lo and behold the brake's hydraulic system had rusted (or rotted) out - don't remember which. Either way, the car was undrivable and was gong to cost upwards of $400 to fix. At first I was ready to fix it then a little voice in my head said just let it go. So I did.

But I didn't realize until I came home from work tonight how comforting it had been to have Kevin's car still in the driveway. Or maybe I should say the illusion of comfort. I think a part of me must have thought as long as his car's in the driveway maybe there's a chance he'll be home - however ridiculous that must sound.

While I know it was the right decision, I feel so strongly that parts of Kevin keep drifting further away -- his car was a big part -- until I won't have any parts of him left. It's the little things that are the most devastating. I thought I'd emptied everything out of the trunk before winter. When I went to check before turning the car over, I found his golf shoes had been in the trunk this whole time. Shoes are the hardest article of clothing for me to look at - I'm not sure why that is. I guess I just keep thinking Kevin shouldn't be without his shoes - cause he never was. Shirtless, shortless, sockless, tieless I can picture him. Shoeless is just to hard to face.