I like cars. So it follows that I get sentimentally attached to them. And even though I have changed cars relatively often, it never gets easier. You always feel like you are giving away a piece of yourself; giving up on something that you once loved so much, that held so much promise, so much excitement! And you are, in a way. Cars are literally the vehicles that carry us through our lives. We drive to work, the gym, dates, get-togethers with friends, weddings, funerals, shopping trips. And while some would argue that they are no more than that--things that take us from Point A to B, I would beg to differ. Because cars are also the setting of a thousand little, unplanned, un-seen moments: like those last few minutes before you [nervously] step out to meet someone new; or the place you take that last big breath right before you walk into a new job. 

I never feel excited the first day that I come home with a new car. I feel guilty. I feel like a jerk. I feel like I failed....something. Why? These are objects that never have and never will care for me. So why should I be so sad for them? I mean, as much as I love them, they have caused me a lot of grief, a lot of stress, and a lot of money. Who would be sad about something like that? 

I don't know. But if you do, could you let me know? I'd like to meet them.