sometime in may 2003, i crashed the car i had been driving for barely six months. it was a 9-year-old car, and i had only recently brought it to baguio, so i don't know if it was the stress of that trip, or just cause i was driving too fast, but as i turned a bend, a pick-up truck whose bed was filled with long poles was there poised to to make a u-turn so i stepped on the brake, and the brake gave and i magnificently crashed to the pick-up truck.
and the long poles came <---this---> close to poking the windshield, and subsequently, poking me. let's just say i almost learned how a hotdog feels like.
since my parents have always believed that i will never learn how to drive, i thought that crashing the car would just cement their fears about my lack of eye-hand-feet coordination. but, wonder of wonders, instead of telling me to stop driving, they actually lent me enough money to buy a new car.
people said (take your pick): i was stupid for buying a car with a low resale value, i was selfish for buying a car that could only seat four, i didn't know what i was doing when i got a tiny 4x4. but in the end, spike saw me through good and bad boyfriends, several weddings and my best friend's funeral, law school, and five jobs. we've been to cabanatuan, tagaytay, taal, subic, and more malls than i could count. i have had flat tires and dead batteries, minor accidents, and parking lot incidents. i finally learned how to park because spike -- nose first, back first, parallel parking, inside the garage, and the weirdest spaces.
i never envisioned a forever between me and spike (i'm realistic), but i never realized that our break-up would be so swift, so immediate, and so permanent.
goodbye, spike. trust me when i tell you that i loved more than all of them combined.