I always kind have thought of motocyclists as crazy and reckless. My mom always says “They are donor cycles. Get hit, hit a pot hole, or simple fall… you are dead. We take your organs” (she’s a nurse so she actually does take your organs) I mean she always tells me these stories to make sure it’s not something I ever get interested in.
A guy I like rides a bike. Don’t know why, but riding on a motorcycle became a fantasy a while ago but I never expected to ever ride one. Then Waqar (my crush) rode on over one night and told me to put pants on and ride with him. So nervous, scared and excited thinking about my mom’s lectures, thinking I can actually die.. I snuck out to ride with him!!
It was really romantic. I mean it could be, if you ride with your bf/gf… it’s super super hot. After I got over the initial fear and clinging onto Waqar for my dear life (poor dear he’s so thin too I think I broke some of his bones), ahhh I really enjoyed the cold summer wind on my face, the starry sky, the smell of trees fresh soil at night on the windy country road of long island, and hugging my crush a lot.
