the most beautiful piece of machinery to have ever existed.
that car took me to my first boyfriends house, to my first good parties, to my first days of college, to first days at work, and to the houses of my dearest friends. sure, it broke down once a week but i loved it. sure, it smelled like cat piss for about 2 weeks but i loved it. sure, none of the doors worked for a while and i would have to crawl in and out through the sun roof but i loved it.
i'm not quite sure what possessed the teenagers of 1315 to do this. maybe it's because they're pissed off that i have 2 cars and they have none. maybe it's because they're pissed that i live in a house that's not on the verge of condemnation. maybe it's because they had already ruined everything in their own house and had to move to the yard. no matter the reason, it simply boils down to the fact that they had nothing better to do. now don't get me wrong, i'm not blaming the actual lease holders. i can't picture either of them taking a boulder, appendage, baseball bat or anything else to my windshield or anyone else's (wait...). but no matter how much i hear that absolutely no one was in the house when it happened or knows who did it, it gets harder to believe.
one of those people should have loved that car as much as i did. one of those people went everywhere in that car with me. one of those people got picked up by me and shared cigarettes with me and listened to shitty pop punk on the way downtown every night with me. i hope the way it looked in the day had some sort of effect on them. because i know it broke my heart.
when i speak of "everyone" who lives in the house i, again, am not simply blaming the lease holders. there are many people there every night and i feel that they all take ownership for the house in one way or another. i also know that they were either present during both counts of vandalism of my car and the stealing of other items or simply laughed about it the next day. i understand they all want to stick together like some sort of incestuous family and not let anyone take them blame, especially when it comes to hurting someone like me. but i hope they remember who they are. i hope they remember how much they've done to hurt and publicly humiliate each other. i hope they remember how they couldn't wait to get home to move someone from their #1 to their #2 in hopes the other person would see it. i hope they remember how much they've talked shit about someone via text when they were in the same room. i hope they remember the events of the past 48 hours.
we got robbed of our most prized, nostalgic, and unforgettable possessions. possessions that held more memories and great feelings for us than any pictures or home movies or familiar faces ever could. things that we were hoping would be around forever even if they were sitting in a dirt lot or a cluttered closet. things that those people took from us because they were mad, poor, bored, or all 3. i hope they can put themselves where i am. get into perspective. and just stop.
this post isn't for them. this post is for me. this post is the most mature and productive way that i can deal with this anger at this point. any comments from any of them in regards to this post is just admitting that they've read all 5 paragraphs of my weepy eulogy. and they're bored. again.
