The car is a teenager, losing the fragility of a newborn. Stone chips bubbling with rust, bursting through like acne.
Burst exhaust changing note daily, a deeper resonance lower and lower with every mile, soprano to bass.
Cracked bumper a scar to be proud of, telling of past near misses.
Dodgy alarm screaming in the morning protesting an early start, a temper tantrum.
New tyres more expensive than sensible shoes, fuel tank demanding money every week.
Becoming more comfortable with you though, filling you with pride as it passes another exam, the joy of another year together, memories of places visited and sights seen.
The fear of a fatal illness or catastrophic accident ending our life together always at the back of the mind.
We should play more; have fun just for the hell of it.
Don’t let the daily grind take over don’t let our life together become a stop start grind.