It's not complicated

He was a coward. Cowardice is like a cancer. You can walk by most people on the street and not even know they have little coward viruses in their blood, in their bones. The worst thing about the coward sickness, you may not know the person next to you has it, breathing your air. They're just like the rest of us, you say, but oh you just consider that they may be your neighbor, your co-worker, your friend. The coward is just sitting there, waiting to come out and drastically alter the course of your trusting, believing, wholesome life.

I won't let my brush with cowardice change my outlook. I won't even speak the coward's name, thereby giving the coward life. A coward does not have a life. Did you know the color black is not actually color at all? The color black is the absence of color - just like a coward is not a life, it is the absence of life.

So this guy, this guy walked and talked like the rest of us - a normal, decent, God-fearing person, just trying to do what he loved and get a little coin for his hard work. You're pulling for him to succeed really. You want to believe that good things happen to good, hard working, God-fearing people.

I met him many times. Gave him lots of my hard-earned money. Lots of my wife's hard earned money. Lots of my daughters well deserved money. Walked his shop. Spoke with his wife. Times are tough, but he's making it. I was rooting for him. I could picture my finished truck blasting down the trail with his sticker on the back glass. Proud. And I'd tell everyone how hard he worked to get me my truck, my project, my dream. He was a good guy. It took me too long to realize that shit smell after every excuse or conversation I had with this guy was the smell of coward.

From the coward came lies. I am and will always be a trusting person. I will not allow this act of cowardice diminish my life. Much like the color black next to a bright blue, I will allow this cowardice to brighten my life. The darker the black the brighter the blue.

He lied to me. Said it was running. Having moved from Colorado to St. Louis, I had to take his word. Each step of the way, there were obstacles, some reason that the truck wasn't quite ready. I was patient. I hadn't paid him a dime since March 2013. I didn't have the room where we were living initially, so what's the rush? Take your time. Get it right, coward. So we'd exchange texts and phone calls. Hey it's running great, but I think your rear end is going out. Let me tear into the rear end. Ok have it, but I'm not giving you any more money. Don't worry about it. He didn't want more money he just wanted more time.

We checked in on it in September 2013 before we moved. The motor was on the mounts and the transmission was on the floor. I got my truck June 2014 and it was exactly the same. It never ran.

Getting it back as I gave it to him - not running 

He robbed Peter to pay Paul. I was Peter.

All was not lost. I did get a motor. The motor is not the agreed upon motor, but it appears in good condition. I do have a transmission. The transmission is connected to my transfer case. And. That's. It.

No, I'm not going after him. I've lost enough. The coward is being sued by many of his previous customers. Even if I were to win judgement in a Small Claims Court I doubt I would ever receive a dime. I will not spend any more of my money or my life thinking about It. At least I have my truck - Wally Wagon.

I haven't wanted to write this blog. I didn't want to sound stupid. I didn't know where to start. I didn't want to explain. I thought about letting it die - the absence of life.

Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I do sound stupid. Perhaps I am a bit too trusting or naive, but I'm not a coward.