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Writing this might be one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a while, and that is really saying something. So, here goes- Yes, the rumors are true. I am selling my beloved PDjeep.

Before you cry out in confusion and anger saying “but, Paige?! How could you do such a thing?!” let’s be honest- this was inevitable. I am currently living in a big city exactly 700 miles away from my where the PDjeep is currently situated. When the time eventually comes around for me to need a car in my life again, it is very likely that the PDjeep won’t be able to start, and will, instead, have dug her own grave.

So, now that you understand where I am coming from, I would like to pay homage to my relationship with my car. I wish there was something that I could compare my connection to my car to, but, sadly, there is not. We’ve been through a lot together, the PDjeep and I, and I wouldn’t trade the hours spent in my car with anything in the world.

I remember when we first began our relationship when my parents had surprised me with her shortly after I received my driver’s license. I was a brat then, and was displeased with my new car. To my parents, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that. You both know how much the PDjeep means to me now, so, thank you for bringing her into my life. I distinctly remember you giving me the vanity plates that didn’t mean the ‘Paige Dolton’ jeep, but meant the ‘Paige/Peter’ jeep. Whoops, sorry Peter. Also, yes, my car is a female. What did you expect?

High School was a great time for me and the PDjeep. She unfortunately took the brunt of my sub-par driving skills and got a little too friendly with several stationary objects. Remember that basketball pole at Marshall? The minivan in the church parking lot? Liz’s parked car in our driveway? The mailbox? Sorry for running you into things- you deserved much better than that. The mailbox incident left you looking a little damaged for a while- I swear, you looked much better without a side mirror than with one. But we both got through it together. I wish it was only the exterior that was affected by my high school days, but, sadly, that is not the case. I’m sorry for that one time we used my car as an outdoor music festival in the school parking lot after lacrosse practice and we blew your speakers out. That was a mean thing for me to do, and I apologize.

But we had our good times in high school. That’s when we really connected, the PDjeep and me. It was in high school that I learned to love driving. I jumped at any opportunity to drive my friends around because not only did I love my car, but I loved driving people in it. Much to my parents’ dismay, it was always the PDjeep that was the mode of transportation for any night out, adventure, or roadtrip we might take. She made a lot of friends, that’s for sure. My high school friends understood my connection with my car. I was asked to homecoming via window paint not only on my side windows, but on my front windshield (because that’s really safe), we decorated her for so many events I can’t even begin to list them all here, she took us to the Kanye concert, and pretty much any other summer concert after that (she was a concert freak), and she took me to camp every summer. We had some good times in high school, that’s for sure.

My first year of college was the only time that the PDjeep and I were separated. It was a rough year, but we both knew that it was necessary in order for me to get the most out of my freshman year. She gained her sorority letters, though, much to Peter’s dismay. We also weren’t together my first semester of sophomore year, but it was okay; we got through it.

My last two years of college were some great ones spent with my car. Most notably, she was used for tailgating and any roadtrip you could possibly imagine. She made it down to Panama City, FL for Fall Break, and it was then that I realized she was starting to get a little old, per the rocket ship sound she was making the entire way. She then made it to Orlando, FL for Spring Break that same year. All the while, getting me back and forth between Clemson and NoVa every now and then. She was starting to get old, and my wallet my dad’s wallet was starting to notice. I naively chose to turn a blind eye because this was my friend, my confidant; I couldn’t part with her, no way.

Senior year, she spent almost every Saturday in the parking lot of Friars right next to the speakers. She got a lot of traffic and made a lot of new friends during football season in Clemson, where she also gained some questionable memorabilia and smells. But she was there for me. She always was. Except for that time she broke down at 8 am during Finals Week on College Ave in front of Subway; that was rough.

This last semester of senior year was probably the toughest on her. Most bizarrely, a stranger chose to sleep in the PDjeep overnight. I learned to never keep my car unlocked again after that lovely incident. She made it all the way to the University of Michigan to visit Nomas, and she didn’t like it one bit. Breaking down in the middle of Ohio was her way of saying, “listen, Paige, I am an old woman.” But throughout all of this, we were learning a lot about each other. I was forced to learn about cars, and she learned that I was stubborn as hell. After the Ohio incident, I continued pushing her limits and brought her to Savannah, GA, and then to Charleston, SC for Spring Break. She had a big of a temper tantrum in Charleston, but, by then I knew exactly how to cure her. I truly put her to the test when I attached a U-Haul to the back of her with my entire life (and some of Kate’s) in tow. That was probably the most emotional journey I had with her because I knew it would be our last. We made a great pair.

I am glad that I said my goodbyes to her when I moved up to Chicago, because I knew this day would eventually come. I truly cherish every hour I spent with the PDjeep, whether it was driving to Virginia Tech for the hundredth time, tailgating for football games and concerts, or just getting me to where I needed to go. She was a good car, and I will miss her immensely, but I know that it is time for her to make someone else happy. Love ya girl, you’ll always be in my heart.