Bicycle

There is a very fine line between love and hate. Both words stir up strong emotions and they both trigger hidden feelings when prodded.Some thrive on love. Others love to hate.So with this brief explanation behind us I make this declaration: I LOVE this bike. When i was a young boy i used to dream of the day that i owned my own bike.I wanted a bike that had lightning bolts tattooed on the chassis.I wanted my bike to be so fast that when i was peddling down the street it felt like i was on the verge of flying. I wanted a bike that would make my classmates pause and reflect... then go home and re-write their letter to the north pole. I never owned THAT bike, but i own this one- a girls bike from japan. As far as i know, no passerby has ever been left jaw dropped and wishing that they were in my shoes. Oh people are smiling at me as i peddle by, though i've yet to figure out why. I have a light on my bike but no light(ning) bolts. It's all the things i never wanted in a bicycle, but i've never appreciated a bicycle as much as this one.It's my ride. When the air is cool outsde just before sunset, or early in the morning before the island is awake, i go for a ride and there is peace, refreshment. Every song playing through my headphones is just a little prettier than i had remembered, and all the thoughts in my head become a little clearer than the night before. And while i'm fairly sure that somewhere in japan there is a girl that is "missing" a bike very "similar" to my bike, i can't help but wonder if she would love or hate to know that somewhere on a little island in the pacific there was a boy who when he went on these rides felt transported back in time, to the days when he would peddle as hard as he could and he'd feel the wind against his face as he prepared for takeoff.