She is on my mind.
This woman simply won’t allow me to break through her resistance. No matter how hard I try, my words have failed. Coming across pathetic, I’m unable to get her attention. If only she took risk.
Damn…I want to ride the bike again with Jojo. Time with her was brief yet simple, not a care in the world… just the wind in our face and roads leading nowhere. We were just alone yet together, how I want the bike and Jojo again.
Harley ride, warm Florida nights, wind in our face, silent smiles.
Blue jeans, black shirt, tanned skin, arms wrapped around pressed close.
Dark skies, stars shine white moon on high, Spectre flies by.
Bright white head light, pine trees rise in the distant.
Panhandle asphalt, parallel ocean flowed deeper into night.
Warrior life no longer a threat, more at ease I became.
Becoming closer wanting our time to be true, we’ve fallen… too far behind.
Not the first love lost.
First one loved.
First thing thought is last thing lost.
Last one loved
This personal journey has been long even exhausting. Repeatedly questioned myself. At the end of the day, no matter how much time has passed, what people say or how much resistance is faced…the drive remains. She’s that important. She means that much.
This 2003 100th Anniversary Edition Harley Davidson Softail Deuce did it all. The very source of peace and so much conflict afterwards. My bike shared with Jojo for over nine months and 4,500 miles of riding together.
Day, night, morning or afternoon, in the surprise rain showers to blazing sun. By the Gulf Coast ocean front, to Sea Side, from Pensacola to Panama City and Destin, so many days and hours we shared on this bike. From the last ride I shared with Jojo, I sold this bike and never rode a motorcycle again. Call it grieving, call it what you want. Without this bike, Jojo and I never would have learned about each other the way we did.
The ride. When performed right, the ride becomes another level of thought. The true ride is when your motorcycle becomes the well oiled piece of industrial art it was meant to be. While on distant roads far away or near home, your bike reaches a rhythm state or pattern on the road, specifically a back road in the middle of nowhere. Much preferred over interstate or major highways, it’s here where these rides define the meaning of your bike. The experience resembles how relaxed you get near an ocean or perhaps when you play golf. Alone doing what you love. At the whim of the environment no matter what the weather is, one way or another, you find yourself immersed in what nature throws at you.
Something as simple as noise dictates how well your motorcycle ride goes. The wind. In your face, covering your eyes. Without protection, your eyes flood with tears, yet, flowing past your ears, the rush of the noise is only topped by two things. The throaty sound of it’s chrome engine combined with the hacked off split exhaust pipes without baffles. Together, they bark out orders pleading you to find more asphalt. Even the feel of the pavement moving below your feet, leaves a sensation of a steady vibration putting you at ease at one point, on a high the next moment. The smells of the sweet fuels and toxic fumes mixed with the pine forests you breach onto salt water in the air near the beaches you by-pass. It’s your sight capturing the entire ride in the roads in front of you plus catching every detail of trees passing by to your left crossing through your right side, finally those in your mirrors left behind.
Once you get the repeated patterns of traffic down, speed fluctuates with your mood. If you are at peace, you cruise. If you are filled with angst about the days gone by or she never calls, kick your bike into fourth then fifth gear going from seventy into eighty hang on for the ride. Or, simply relax and enjoy a wide open road alone crisscrossing a far off mountain pass or distant desert valley.
It’s here the ride becomes the very reason you chose to climb on the bike that day, or every day for that matter.
Rain showers and slick highways depress you. No matter if at home or work, every day you find yourself daydreaming about the next ride. It all comes down to your very source of peace. Letting the bike do the work while all you do is hold on for what’s next, steering with the chrome handle bars accelerating with your right hand.
With the twist of your grip, the bike opens up as you force more fuel into the pistons speeding the bike up faster. Your searching for that next bend in the road, hunting for the way of new beginnings. The feeling of the experience is what your motorcycle is all about. The rush of power unleashed beneath your feet is like no other. The ONLY thing making your bike better…is the beauty sitting right behind you hanging on you enjoying the same ride.
Together, the bike, the ride and this woman are the simple things in your life. It’s your experience.
One simple dance be shared. Gracefully time slows.
In these eyes dreamt, genuine…beauty captured.
Back and forth, held close rhythmic breaths, where else be in awe.
No matter what becomes. Here, I will be.
Prepare To Cross Over
Simple, complex and unique. Attractive. Intelligent. Silent, fragile yet strong. Mysterious. Independent.
Touch and feel of softness, the smell of spring. Sight of something new, yearned for when alone.
Warmth when cold, close when afar. Alive day or night, bright when our world is dark.
Gracefully balanced, peace of mind. Without a word, the very sound leading home.
Enduringly beautiful.
She’s my reason to wake.
Prepare to Cross Over
Growing old without Jojo and Little Man is disturbing. Time doesn’t seem the same and life isn’t the best without them. The sun does not set or rise. What was beautiful before is a passing thought today. What I valued before has little to no meaning. Without them, the day doesn’t arrive new and the night doesn’t come soon enough. Watching how fast these past eight years have passed concerns me. Why do lessons learned have to be so costly? Are all these challenges meant for a purpose where so many losses and failures happen for a reason? I ask these questions because from the very start, when forced to make a choice eight years ago, I chose to pursue a good life with Little Man and Jojo, finally new warrior responsibilities. After all that I failed at, I’ve come to believe that the unhealthy thinking I may have been pursuing the next warrior life. Fact is how I couldn’t have all three. Little Man, Jojo and that life.
Today, I seriously look at life different, but I don’t. To read more, please click this link: Spitting Teeth
Pay attention to the video when you listen to the song. It slowly unfolds. Thanks to XD Photography Blog for recommending this song.
I’m no longer trying to figure out why things happened. Moving forward with my son’s hand in mine, in search of a bike and a woman like Jojo.
I can’t do the talk. I can’t do a love song like the way it was meant to be. I can’t do everything but I’ll do anything for you. All I do is miss you and the way we used to be. All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme. (Dire Straits)
Jojo was a good strong woman then, she’s only better now. Only once did I watch her cry. Then a second time. A third time too many. The first was not because of me. The others were. I just don’t understand why. Was it when I approached her? Did I do it wrong or was I wrong? Where did I fuck it all up? We didn’t have an argument or yell at each other. It was time pulling us apart from each other. To the point we didn’t say a word.
This is the way I understand things. Just tell me I’m not off in my own mind creating this sense of drive for each other. I felt it. I felt all of it and more and wanted more of it.
On the final night I spent all night writing my last words to Jojo. I left her behind a message telling her not to give up on me. What I couldn’t say to her face, I was forced to write in that letter. It was everything I simply couldn’t say. Telling her that no matter how long it takes to not once ever quit. As I wrote that note, I saw that approaching storm on the damned horizon. I was fucked from the beginning. No matter what happened, I wanted her to know that I had to leave. When I did, when the timing was better, I would find her again. What I could not tell her was how I had to first end the failed marriage I had with her good friend. Little Man’s mother. At no time did Jojo ask me to do anything like that. It was me. All me. At the time of that note, I made my choice to find Jojo again. The pursuit just wasn’t the right time.
The pursuit for Jojo continued through emails after emails month after month. It appeared after each email, I only got worse. Then it became a year, and another year. Jail, hospital after another, six months here, a few there. Before I knew it six, seven and now eight years have passed me by. My son grew older, so did Jojo and myself. However we all grew years apart. The two most important things in my life could not be brought together with me.
After experiencing Jojo the way I did, I wanted to give the same thing back to her. I wanted and still want to share things with her where life is mutual. Where we both give and take from each other without saying a word.
Not a “woah be me” song. Just a great song by a band that broke punk into mainstream music. I think you will relate to the lyrics and enjoy this song. When I say they broke punk into popular music, I’m not referring to punk who stayed punk or punk who started punk. By no means is this considered a punk song. Green Day just originated as punk. Regardless, Green Day, just like Metallica went viral if you would and took their genre to the public making it big leaving a great impact on music.
This song reminds me of what it’s like to have friends and family drop like flies while you pursue what you are after. Failing throws curve balls at you, yet, just before the dawn is the darkest hour. When life is so damned frustrating, just when it is about to expire, that is when it starts and the good comes around. Simply put, no matter what you never fucking quit.
To love is defiance. Go against the grain, opposite of the world around you. Call it being stuck or too focused, I don’t care. It is what it is. She’s on my mind everyday all day. These thoughts are motivating one moment, down right upsetting the next. Meaning I find myself wanting to talk to her again sharing with her the good things in life. Next, I’m realizing how far removed we are from each other, there appears no chance we will reconnect. Regardless, I choose to take this path. It is my decision to want to have feelings for Jojo. More than once I’ve tried to give up, naturally within myself is something that refuses to quit.
Knowing she is not married yet is nothing less than inspiring. There is a chance. A chance for anything in this world. Why so many people have gone off and pursued things in this world that were impossible to others. I knew from the beginning it would be next to impossible to retrieve a new relationship with Jojo. The odds were stacked against me. Had I chosen to stay with her, she would have witnessed me as a married man try to start a life with her. Later, in the worst of times with Jojo, she would have seen me as less of a man lacking loyalty. The effort would have failed.
Tell me not to want her. Tell me to go away, to return to my home and start a new life. I will tell you in return to piss off and take the high road. My intent was to recover remnants of a past life with a purpose to recover my son and build a better life with someone new. Someone who earned my trust and respect. Someone, at the end of the day, I simply fell for.
Had I…ah, the past doesn’t matter much. Only for the lessons learned will the past matter. That’s exactly what I’m trying to convey, is how if I had done anything different, I would have compromised myself and everything I believed in. Going after my son first is, was and will always be the right thing. Had I not done that, I would not be here typing. Instead, I would be dust dissolved in some far off waters or found crumbling in mud within some hidden dump. If a pistol to the temple or dextromethrophane to the kidney did not take me, the great man above would have found a way.
All I can relate her to is … beauty. Yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. When you experience Jojo, you will certainly feel the same way. You want to be a part of her and share something with her. She is dynamic, alive and a giving woman who carries herself with confidence. Being so attractive, she’s confidently able to walk everywhere with her head held high.
This woman is that impressive…she would endure rides on the bike for over 12 hours. Not complaining or whining wanting to go home or stop. She wanted to live life to the fullest. To the point, I taught her how to ride the Harley on her own. Watching her learn was amusing and fun. She took control of the bike, let out a shriek scream and went with it. On that abandoned runway, she commanded that 600lb bike and took off pushing through the gears where the transmission begged to be shifted higher and higher.
For now, rarely when I look up do I see women who capture my attention and set off the internal fire of attraction. If they are attractive, then they lack personality, even intelligence and humor. Or, too dramatic, whine even judge others.
I don’t know, they simply are not this woman. The woman I”ve chosen to love, respect and pursue.
Allow me time to collect thoughts. This way I won’t publish less than the best in posts. For now, I’m doing what I said I would do. Let things go and move on.Well I’m here to tell you how that is easier said than done.I’m just going to sit back and enjoy this classic tune from a great 70′s band called Marshall Tucker Band with their song “Can’t you see.”
Listen to the lyrics and try to understand how this is going to be harder then it appears. I will kick back tonight and relax thinking until I sleep.
Allow a man time!
Peace
Prepare to Crossover
In time, my search and hunt for Jojo may come to an end. What I must do is take care of myself. Next to Jojo, the bike was that source of peace of mind. Parked to sit alone, the bike is alive no matter day or night. Waiting and ridden full throttle cruising and relaxed. The hum of the engine sets the tone and pattern of the moment. A continuous rhythm felt throughout your entire body. Putting one at ease.
It’s time to find my bike again. Sold eight years ago soon after the last ride with Jojo, I’m now feeling the bike call me. Brilliant black with shiny silver like chrome threaded throughout the bike, once in my possession I’m ready. Until my son grows enough released and moved out on his own, on my motorcycle I take a journey or ride of my own. It’s here that I’m ready and willing to ride across the entire country. The bike leading me back to this woman until one day I return to my final home.
I have many passions in my life. My family is one of them. Specifically, my role as being a Dad. What I’ve created and raised. It’s who my son is, what he means and what he has become and will become. He carries my name and the legacy that will be passed on to his own children sharing within the communities they will live and grow with. I see my son from the past, through today and imagine where he will lead to in the future. All the damned potential he possesses, he has so much to give to this world. I want to give him the best tools to prepare him for the best opportunities where he will get the most out of life giving back to this world. I enjoy every day I spend with him, every conversation I’m aware of what I say to him. Our relationship is of most importance to me, perhaps because I didn’t share the same relationship with my own father. Being a Dad is my priority. Being a warrior and leader of warriors even suppporting the warrior life comes next. In the meantime, I’m in pursuit of what I’m passionate about. What I don’t have. I’m pursuing another ride (motorcycle) and a woman. A symbol of what is beautiful, this woman is called Jojo. She is not less of a priority, she is just not in my life right now. I want her to be. At one point I had her in my life but I was forced to walk away from her. Before I left I tried everything I could to show her how important she was to me. I tried to show her how much I wanted her and failed. My efforts blew up in my face where I lost her.
At some point, before I left her, I made a choice. No one else did. I did myself. That I would find Jojo again with the hope to start a new life with her. Now, I’m starting to think I was wrong. You cannot force someone to love you or be with you. The only thing I was going off of was all the time Jojo and I had spent together. I felt her desire to want to be with me. I too felt that way towards her. Everyday was a new adventure with Jojo. She showed me things I had never seen before making me look at life differently. She came into my life at a time of great conflict. She became my source of relief. All of those reasons are simply the start. What Jojo represents is beauty. Her personality. How she raised herself. How good of a person she was, is and has become. How she cared for my only son as if he was her own. She allowed me to focus and be at ease. Her humor, sharing conversation with Jojo, having fun with her is easy. She’s exciting always wanting to ride the motorcycle and explore. No matter how long we rode together, she never grew tired or felt like not riding. She wanted to ride just as much as I did. The roads were never long enough with Jojo. The days and nights were never long enough to allow us to travel as much as we wanted to. Was all this a mere snap shot of experiences that will never occur again? Were we filled with so much energy and drive only because I was on my way out forced to move away from Jojo being the last remaining member of our family to interact with Jojo? Did we spend all that time together because I was on the verge of leaving? Or, did we unlock something with each other unexpectedly where we both enjoyed sharing our time together wanting it everyday? That is what I’ve come to understand it all as. It was all an accident.
When our time together was happening, I knew it was too good to be true. Everyday felt different and so new. The things I saw were brighter more amplified with Jojo. I felt like I was raised to another level of being, living another life. I was elevated to another level with her. The shriek of her voice of excitement and endless drive and energy motivated me. She was something of so much possibility, I could see her in no one else. What was positive before I met Jojo was no longer. The world appeared different after Jojo. I knew when we were together it would not last forever. I simply thought there would be a gap in time where one day we would meet again and continue on a journey together experiencing the world and life together. I thought she enjoyed sharing time with me. I know I did with Jojo.
On top of it all, Jojo was simply beautiful. She was and still is the full package. Beauty, brains, humor, outgoing, caring, athletic, energetic, clean, responsible, independent. I could go on. That is what she left me to remember. She was a source of so much possibility. Being with her was an experience. When I wasn’t with her, I craved her. When I was with her, I couldn’t get enough out of life. When Jojo was near me the world sounded different, felt more intense, smelled sharper, tasted bolder looked simply amazing. Jojo came from a life where she raised herself after being disrespected by those she loved.
The situation between us is so complex, not simple tearing at me. We met as neighbors when she was very young. She became a part of our family where we watched her grow. Jojo matured when I was gone to war. I became introduced to Jojo after she became a new woman I had never seen before. Again, her arrival was like a gift, a surprise, unexpected. The new Jojo is who I came to learn and spend six months with. That Jojo was the one I rode my motorcycle with taking a journey I cannot forget.
In the end, Jojo left me. Or, I left her. I don’t know how it ended. Either I made a terrible mistake trying to get intimate with her, or I made a mistake in my effort and did it wrong shutting her off. It was wrong and didn’t work right. I failed. Regardless, to me, we were not supposed to be apart from each other forever. Deep within I believed we were meant to to meet again. At the time we spent with each other, I wasn’t good enough for her. Before I could share anymore with Jojo, even entertain going further with Jojo, I had to learn what it meant to become a man. That is why I left. I was a Dad to my son and had responsiblities. First, I had to be with him. Next, I had to change my entire life. What I was doing was wrong. There was so much wrong with me, I had to leave Jojo and discard what no longer worked. I had to redefine myself.
Tell me I did everything right with Jojo. Prove to me how I made the right decisions and choices. Tell me I’ve been a good man representing to my son how to be a good man. Tell me I shared with Jojo something to come back to, something to be passionate about.
One night, when Jojo boarded the Harley, she threw her leg over the seat and mounted the bike where her jeans raised up revealing her right calf. Without a thought, her leg came down onto the shiny silver exhaust pipe where instantly the pipe seared her skin forever burning Jojo leaving behind a symbol of the rides on her body. To this day I’m not certain what that symbolizes to Jojo, whether those rides were a success or failure.
What I do know is how the choices I made when getting closer to Jojo turned out to be the best decisions I could have made. Had I chosen to grow intimate with her, I would have lost her. How do I show this woman that she is the only woman in the world that matters. I do it by leaving with the intent to return to find her again. I was too young and immature at that time. Yes, I was older than her, yet I was immature and simply not ready. Choosing to stay and grow intimate would have scarred her for life leaving me behind in purgatory. What needed to happen was I had to leave her, then, return, only when I was better prepared and had learned to become a man. My travels had taken me too many places and had seen too many things I couldn’t describe. To the point I had lost track of who I had become. A father, a leader, a husband, a lover or nothing?
Looking back, I believe it took a man to make the choice I made. It would take me seven years to learn I was a good man and not what I feared deep within. Jojo was the reason I made those choices, next to little man, she became my reason for existence. The time spent with Jojo became my scar burned deep within my heart teaching me how love of any kind within our short life should never be taken for granted.
The motorcycle was a 2003 Harley Davidson Softail Deuce. A black bike with the 100th Anniversary stripe along the sides of the fuel tank. New pipes were installed where the baffles were removed to make the engine sound twice a throaty and loud. You could hear us coming from a mile away. The bike rode low to the ground where while you were riding you could rest your heals on the front foot pegs for a more comfortable ride. The rear wheel was solid aluminum with a fat tire approximately 150cm wide.
The front fork was the traditional Softail thin fork with a skinny tire resting in between. It came with an electronic alarm and auto start. I bought it brand new and only had it for two years where I put approximately 6,000 miles on it. A seriously low amount of miles for that long, but I had my reasons. At least 4,000 of those miles were with Jojo.
