Defiance

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.

Ride of my own

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.

The Bike

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.