I lost my dad when I was young due to a motorcycle accident. I wrote this when a good family friend of ours lost his sister and her husband to one. I channeled a lot of my anger towards them into this, so I apologize to whoever it triggers. But its what came up for me, and I’m a transparent person and this is part of my healing journey.
1/25/24
Motorcycles. I believe they’re like a drug.
You enjoy the adrenaline rush.
You enjoy the speed. The speed that you know is illegal. The speed that pushes the limits.
You know the dangers. But you do it anyway.
You know it could ruin your life. But you do it anyway.
You know you could hurt those around you. But you do it anyway.
It’s an addiction. It’s a need. There’s something that runs through your veins that other people just don’t understand.
You love to find people who get it. You love to find groups of people to do it with. Other addicts. Other addicts that make you feel better about your obsession. Because no one understands it like they do. No one gets you like they do.
They understand the need. They understand the want. They understand that you have to have that next ride.
You feel invincible. You say, “This could never break me. This could never take me. I only do what I can handle.”
But you push your limits. Druggies always push the limits. They push them until it takes them away from us.
I believe motorcycles are like a drug. Another drug that takes our loved ones when even they aren’t expecting it.
– S
