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Relax
I watched as my memories drove away, and I didn’t, couldn’t, do anything. It was the spring of last year. The day was beautiful, warm, full of life. It was a normal day, we were doing a normal task. My family had, months before, bought a new car. Our old one was hard to find parts for, and kept needing more and more replacements. My entire life had been related to that car, such an unimportant thing in others eyes, and one of the most valuable things in mine. Driving with my family, the places we went, the things we said, my memories seemed almost trapped within the the doors.
Whenever my parents brought up selling, I would dismiss it, trying to not care. Surrounding myself in music, or videos seemed easier than accepting the truth. I never wanted it to be destroyed, or get sold to someone random. I would try to persuade, saying “I can drive it in a few years” or “We can keep it until I go to college “.A neighbor came up to us, and said that he had a friend from his church that was in need of a car. I didn’t know her at all, but my mother jumped at the offer. So we decided to meet her. I was standing silent the whole time, desperately trying to stay out of the conversation, trying to distract myself. I was quiet, only speaking when spoken to, dismissing most questions with short and basic answers. This only made it hurt more in the end.
My mom made the decision, she agreed to sell. The day came to. I was trying to desperately distract myself, shutting myself out from everything. The clock struck 2, the sound echoing through the house, my heart beat faster and faster by the minute. I went out to the car, barefoot, just to say goodbye. I stepped in alone, and got into the front seat. It was cold, and stiff, yet so familiar. Looking at the surroundings, the dust on the dashboard, the patterns on the seats, it made everything come rushing back. I felt my heart starting to race, my face starting to turn red. I started to tremble, which turned into clenched fists, I knew that I couldn’t let this happen. I started to take pictures, grasping at straws to keep the memories safe, trying to delay the inevitable.
All the memories seemed like they were floating stagnant around me. A wave of emotion hit me suddenly, I would do anything to keep this car. I sat there almost in tears, all alone, not knowing what to do. I felt like everyone was against me, and nobody wanted me to hold on to my past. I marched back into my house saying that I wouldn’t let it go, I couldn’t let it go. I wanted more than anything for it to stay with me, until I can see it fade away on my own terms. My mother obviously disagreed, and started to leave. I didn’t know what to do, where to go. She left. So I did too. I didn’t even grab keys, or a phone. I just left.
For hours I walked alone, with a hood over my head. Trying to stay out of the view of people, fearing judgmental glances like they were bullets. Absolutely nobody that cared knew where I was.
For the first few minutes I was red faced, turning away from people, from any form of contact. All I did was walk. All I did was think. The steady pace of my steps, the wind in my face, they seemed so comforting. I took my hood off and watched the clouds move. Sitting under a tree, realising how unnecessary the whole ordeal was. I walked for miles, just breathing and watching. The presence of nature, and life around me allowed me to come to terms with what happened. Kids playing, birds chirping somehow made me forgive, even though minutes before I was fuming. I all I had to do was relax, and actually look at the situation. Once I did that, I started to laugh.
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This was a very important event in my life. It changed how I have handeld every situation since. I feel that the writting the story itself actually helped me get over it further.