I’ve decided I know what this is.
Looking for the perfect used car on Kijiji is like trolling for true love on Tinder; your mind knows that whatever is out there is likely a dud, while your heart can’t help hoping for a happy ending anyway. The Awkward Yeti’s excellent Heart and Brain illustrates this weird, symbiotically screwed up relationship of the psyche better than I ever could (I recommend you head over there because the rest of this is just going to be me going on about finding the chariot of my dreams).
No matter how jaded I claim to be, I haven’t yet managed to kill that hopeful little girl in me that dreams of happy endings. Except this time I’m not looking for love. I’m looking for the perfect used car. Which, if you think about it, is pretty much the same thing. It’s that old “what if I get lucky” conundrum that has people losing their minds on dating apps and throwing away their monthly social security check at the slots.
My brain is stating the facts simply, sitting in a chair having a cup of tea, looking at me with pity. It knows that real life doesn’t always have happy endings, and it also knows that buying a used car means inheriting someone else’s problems. But my heart hasn’t yet succumbed to reality, and is busy jumping up and down with giddy glee, mouthing what-ifs, sprinkling flower petals over everything, singing Disney songs of hope and forever after. And the blasted thing gets louder each time brain tries to remind me to keep my feet on the ground and my head out of the clouds. Everything is going to be okay! You’re gonna find the one! It’s this delusional, positive-thinking side of me that I usually tamp down with a lot more success, but it’s getting harder and harder to shut it up the more we search for our true auto soulmate.
Dream big. Reach for the moon.
It’s never going to happen.
Saving for Botox 