Not really…more like the “I Can’t Seem To Get To The UK” blues. I’ve got to do some real work to get my car sold. Somehow the idea of selling it on Craigslist or other such wasn’t appealing…it’s like I’ve had Ghost for so long now to sell her to someone I don’t know doesn’t feel right. But what feels even less right is that I haven’t seen Simon since January 28th.
I think the easiest thing is to go to Carmax and see what they will give me for her. Boy, even considering the fact that if I don’t see Simon soon I’ll explode, that still seems harsh. They can’t see what I see in her. They don’t see the car that took me to Sandy Paws to pick up Daisy after taking me and Profile for one last ride from Austell, GA to the vet in South Carolina. They don’t know that it was Ghost that took me to see Simon for the first time, or that provided me with a safe and warm place to camp at the Renn Fest.
They don’t know that the hole in the front bumper represented the first time I thought my move to Montgomery was a mistake. They weren’t there when I got Joanne to believe that the rusty spot on the side (barely noticeable) was from being shot at while driving rather than a rock hitting me on the highway. They’ve never looked back into gorgeous brown greyhound eyes staring intently into Ghost’s rear view mirror.
She holds a lot of memories for me, good old Ghost, and it’s just all part of what has become my life now…a lot of letting go. Leap, and the net will appear, right?