I love you, Paul

Everyone needs someone, or something, that’s there for them no matter what. Paul is that for me.

Paul%2C+my+beloved+Pontiac+g6%2C+poses+for+a+picture.

Caylin Kitchner

Paul, my beloved Pontiac g6, poses for a picture.

Caylin Kitchner, staff writer

Paul, born in 2007, still runs smoothly. The dark, blue hue of his exterior shimmers in the sun. The scratches of past battles line his perimeter. The bushes, curbs, and trees were no match for Paul.

His top might squeak as it is going down, but it goes down without fail every time. His lights–although dim– light up the night.

 Paul, my 2007, Pontiac g6 convertible, is a diamond in the rough.

His tan interior is filled with permanent sand, paint, and clothes from past adventures. His radio plays whatever I desire; though, he adds his personal touch: static.

Every morning I can’t help but smile when I see Paul parallel parked in front of my house. He represents freedom, adventure, happy memories, and individuality. 

I can go anywhere I desire when I’m behind his black wheel, coated with a colorful, Zentangle fabric. Whether we decide to go to Orlando,Tampa, or on a ten-minute journey to my friend’s house, Paul is always up for the adventure. 

Paul houses many memories— he’s taken me to cross-country meets blasting Taylor Swift with my team, he’s taken me to surprise Lucy Anderson for her birthday, he’s gone to the beach with me more times than I can count. Paul guides me. I never feel lost when I am driving him, even if I have no idea where I am going.

Paul also represents my individuality. His interior is filled with my favorite things. Bright colors, sandals, my running shoes, lego figures of my favorite characters, the palm tree necklace my grandma gave me dangling from the rearview mirror, and the duck tape label stuck to my glove box, announcing that the passenger seat is Ella’s seat. 

To the untrained eye, Paul might seem worthless, but he is not to me. Driving him is one of the best parts of my day. I had many options when choosing what car I could call my own, but Paul stood out to me. I don’t know if it was because my grandmother drove a silver model of Paul or if it was because of the idea of driving a convertible every day, or if it was the convenience of buying him on the spot. But I am glad I can call Paul mine. 

Finding something that helps you express your individuality, sense of freedom and adventure is a difficult task, but it is a profitable discovery. 

I challenge you to find a Paul in your life. Find something that shapes your individuality, that helps you be you.

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