Dear Stephen (my Saab),

Thanks for being my partner-in-crime, adventure-beckoning, faithful little car. I like the way you look either like a cute, retro car, or a grandma car. Either way, you're adorable. I like that I can open the door and your leather seats smell like crayons. I like how you never complain when I sing badly to every song on the radio. I like that I can say "Hey Stephen!" when I walk out to the driveway, which makes me feel like I am am funny because that is the title of a Taylor Swift song.

I'm sorry for the abuse you've taken the past few years. I'm sorry for that time I went through the car wash with the antenna up and it snapped and you had to ride around with it looking curly and weird until you got your sweet new radio/cd player. I'm sorry for the white scrape of paint on your front bumper from that time that I ran into the house (it came out of nowhere, alright?). I'm sorry for the tiny scrape right behind the driver side door because of the dumb devil Emu that clawed at you when my young life team dragged me against my will to a safari park with terrifying, evil birds. I'm sorry that your backseat has suffered from wet towels I've left there after swims and from Chance jumping all over when he rides with me. I'm sorry that I apparently like to "curb check" according to the man who gave you new tires (what does he know?). I'm sorry that, according to several of my friends, I drive "like a crazy person" who needs to "use the mirrors more often" and stop "breaking so abruptly." Oh, and I'm sorry for the coffee stains on your floor.

Stephen, you know me so well. You've witnessed countless laugh attacks (while driving...actually,that probably scared you more than filled you with joy, seeing as I cannot control myself while in the grips of a giggle-fit. so, sorry about that, too) and hilarious conversations. You've been there when good friends have sat in your passenger seat and we've talked about life and love and real things that matter. You've been there when we've opened the sunroof and let the shine move right in, and blasted the stereo and just been in love with life. You've been a part of cloud-gazing, star-gazing, mountain-gazing, ocean-gazing. You've seen me when I'm a teary mess and won't let anyone else near. You've seen me at my happiest and weirdest. You've listened to me practice club talks, have serious phone conversations, tell bad jokes, rap 50 Cent, pray. You know me so well that your wheels seem to turn automatically as we pass Sheetz on the way to charlottesville every single time, just to get that cup of coffee I really don't need but really want. Caffeine-addiction and all, you put up with me.

All of this is to say - you rule, Stephen. And thank you. Thanks for getting me safely from place to place. Thanks for taking me to cities and beaches and down gorgeous winding roads and to the houses of people I love the most in the universe.

I think you're pretty awesome.

love,
your appreciative (if sometimes terrifying) driver - emily