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My name is Musa. Lancia Musa. Like a muse in search for shaping realities, I was incepted with American precision, styled with Italian vision and engineered with craft and luxurious details, making me a unique, sophisticated brand, sexy and elegant at the same time. I am a versatile mpv, suv, pkw, and other variegated acronyms, highlighting good choices, class and flexibility. I make eyes turn when I show up on short-term city spots and leave Mercedes-Benzes behind on the highway long-run.
Upon my conception I saw a girl once who went by the name of Soar. It was love at first sight. She came to me with joy and smiles and took me home immediately. We’ve been inseparable ever since. She gave me a roof above my head, oiled my needs, refuelled my heart constantly, got me new lungs, changed my rubber shoes too often and kept me clean and pretty, no matter the costs and circumstances, giving me the best that one can give: her secrets, her trust….and her very important roses. From her first Italian swearword to her deepest love, I was her confident, her support, her happiest moment at dusk and dawn, when she would just drive and sing to me about her world.
I gave my all to her in return, like a chameleon of options with unmeasured devotion: a buddy to shop with, a bodyguard at night after a club, a listener of her sighs and enthusiasm, a dance partner for her body-waves practice, a best friend when she crossed an entire country to change life, a giggling confident at the traffic lights when her lips longed for a retouch…..and more than one can fantasize.
She called me Carolina and every time she came to me, whether in a parking lot, unpaved road or in front of a friends house, she always brought a lot of joy along. I could never have enough of her eyes catching my sight.
Yet, time, the prequel of hope and sequels foe, summoned the gods of the universe and ascribed them the task to cut ties and end lives; to change courses and cast unpredictability around; to test the length of words and the weight of their purpose: it would have been either me or her to survive destiny’s need to recalibrate life. Because the best of things come with a hard price.
I struggled, I fought, I sent hundreds of petitions, I denied all gods claiming such choice, but no one listened to my words, no one cared for my toil. They laughed at me and said that I was made of steel, ergo I couldnt have feelings. Yet, my adamancy didnt let go and I made a pact with them. She will never know that on that gloomy night, laden with heavy rain, oil traces and inadvertent happenings, I chose to die in order to keep her alive. I chose to put my body before hers and take that bullet of pain to never see her eyes again. And, in that tragic moment, they reduced me to pieces, smashing all my circuits while she, my dearest one, got out without a scratch. As my heart was still throbbing for life to the bewilderment of all passers-by, I could see her tears invading her cheeks, denying any aid for her safety, being too swift with the policemen and their formalities, asking every single passenger instead to help me, to save me, to do something. They kept her away from me, thinking that I might explode but she wouldnt hear of it. She came directly inside and there, on my mortuary bed, we spent together in tears the most amazing moments.
The modulus of rupture was being tested. She begged me not to go, she asked me to get well, she told me she would find all the money in the world to make me whole again. But I was falling into a coma and, as much as my lights were still addicted to her eyes, her words, her tears, her calling my name constantly and her fight to keep my body stable dimmed in a pleasant sleep, where I could find solace and peace.
They say that the hardest thing to do in life is to separate from a loved one.
I know that even now she looks around to find me in a parking lot and a tear twinkles in the corner of her eye. I know that she exchanged strong words with the workshop which refused to repair me and then she left for good that place. I know that any new companion presented to her with “10 airbags and all-inclusive services” would never match my only frontal one. I know that her last visit to my graveyard was the best ritual she could have given me in front of an unsympathetic taxi-driver. She kissed me from the wheel to my deepest wound in my carroserie. I know she would still give anything to see me well and functioning and that she suffers greatly for losing 15 years of togetherness and memories. But I also know that saving her life was worth it. Her smile still needs to comfort people and she loves greatly every life she touches. Her happiness will be my luminary.
Mutatis mutandis, all that I can say to you now, new steel companion joining her side, is to treat her well and, maybe, she will have you grow a heart between your plastic features and airbags, between that array of eye-catching accessories and the basic needs for safety, hopefully beyond the given warranty. Understand that in order to rejoice her care, you need to be truthful. Dont play dramas with her feelings, dont stress her with broken electric contacts and issues, dont do the self-centred bull**t. Forget about all those trendy automotive hashtags and just be her real guide. Because if you win her loyalty, thats a forever thing. She’s never for half measures, what she gives is complete, at 360 degrees.
And to my owner and my love, tell her that it was an honour and a joy to have lived and died in the pamper of her heart. Give her two advices from my part: to stop having doubts about that guy and to learn, once and for all, how to use that handbrake!!! I hope she wont give you a hard time and that she will allow you to carry her roses and win her care, so that my passing away will not have been in vain. This will feel like “the end of an era” for her, but I arranged with the gods to replenish her new start and to protect the hope she still has in abundance. That was my wish in exchange for my sacrifice. I will never forget how she made me feel amazing, every time…with just one frontal airbag!
Forever hers,
The best car in the world
#soar, #soaringwords, #poetry, #storypoetry, #mylanciamusa, #loss, #life, #people, #passion, #hope, #loyalty, #love.
Picture Credits: private source.
