Goodbye old friend

Well, it's over. After seven years, my first true love and I must take different paths. I'm proud to say we never gave up on each other. We refused to quit. I couldn't move on and she wouldn't give in. She stuck with me through the years. She met tons of my friends from cross country runners to State Newsers at Michigan State. We traveled together all over the country. We lived in different cities. We survived in rain, snow and terrible conditions. No matter what was going on in my life, she was always there. She was the rock in my world. She seemed to calm me as she belted Bob Seger hits when I felt lonely and she would jam to the hardest rock tunes during my "rebellious years." I'm sorry about that one time I hit her in anger after I found out I needed surgery on my knee. I thought it might have ended years ago. She had bumps and bruises and some scratches along the way. There were tear-filled conversations and injuries maybe too expensive to pay. But we stuck it out, for that I'm proud. Now we're faced with saying goodbye. My first love, a 1991 red Ford Probe two-door, hatchback car. While driving home during a Slurpee run, an old man pulled in front of me. I had no time to react. I slammed on the brakes and served to the right, but I couldn't save her. She of course saved me. I hit the other car straight on, she absorbed the impact. Besides soreness, I'm okay. But she's not. She still drives, but her hood, front end and lights are beyond repair. And with tears, I must say goodbye to the one object that has lasted with me through the years. Regrets? I should have cleaned her more, given her more oil and waxed her body with more pride. I wish I had the money to rebuild you. It was only fitting that my Slurpee flew out of it's cup and onto her floor. I must have drank thousands of them while in her. And so on mile 114,076 I say goodbye. So long my old friend. Now we have to give up. We must find new paths. I'm sorry.