Over the years, I have been enjoying unravelling the depths to my emotions.
My new emotion revolves around my new car - Jude.
I haven't had my own car for over six months.
Now, I do again.
And it's a stick-shift.
There is something so much more personal about driving a manual car that I can't explain. It's intimate. The gears are shifting only when I tell them to. (If only it were that easy, there are physical factors involved.) And, this isn't a simple task. It isn't to be perfected in one sitting. Smoothly driving a manual car is to be earned. This means there are literal blood, sweat, and tears to be shed. Every time I drive I have this high anxiety mixed with adrenaline that I can't really do anything about. The first few times I drove, I wasn't strong enough to do anything about it, so I was overridden by these emotions. It showed. I stalled often. With time, I was able to be more in control of my other emotions. I gained confidence and stature. The anxiety and adrenaline still lingers, but it doesn't get my full attention. Driving does.
Sometimes, the anxiety/adrenaline lingers for an hour or two after driving. If it were to show itself physically, I would be heavily shaking often. I don't know how long this will last, or if it will continue to be with me throughout my years with Jude. But, I'm not opposed to it. Heck, it might even be able to replace coffee for me.
What ever it is, I welcome it.
Here's to me joining the fam of manual drivers!
I hope I make yall proud.
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