This gal and I have laughed together, written songs together, and cried together, as she's quietly heard about all my troubles.
I remember the first time I laid eyes on her. She sat so humbly in the Carl's Jr. parking lot. Others had their opportunity to have her, but they acted slowly, snoozed and lost. But I knew what I wanted once I saw her. She sat with squatty elegance and a rare sort of whiplash grace, as if she couldn't decide whether she was stopping or going.
She had been in a relationship before, one that didn't end so well, but do they ever? She was the type to always need to be in a relationship. I don't usually go for these kind of gals, but I was in a desperate place myself. This was the summer of $4.50 a gallon for unleaded and my previous broad was high maintenance, breaking the bank, so to speak. So once I dropped Gretchen's gas-guzzling ass off at Carmax I knew I had to find someone who made a little bit more sense with my limited-to-no-income lifestyle. Gretchen never understood, but this one wouldn't even have to try to get me. She was already there. I was happy to take her home to Mom and Dad.
Now we've battled through storms and been determined to arrive at our destination together. On brighter days, we've basked in the sun and have been bent on not arriving anywhere at all together.
There have been ups and downs (literal kinds of mountains and valleys) for sure, but that's just life. We've crossed rivers together, held our breath through tunnels together. We've even been captured by the law together. She's got a wild side.
By God, we've seen the world together, me and this gal! And I'll miss her dearly. I'll miss her when she's gone.
All good things do come to an end, they say. Who are they? No one really knows, but we've believed it nonetheless. And I guess I partly agree, but I also believe that this is just a new beginning; a transitional period of sorts.
So I raise my glass to her good years ahead. You'll be fine, my gal. She'll be cared for, I hope. She's got so much more life in her, and I pray she'll find the one who can draw it out of her best.
Bertha, thank you. You'll always be my champion Tercel.